The treasury of Ba-suto lore; being original Se-suto texts, with a literal English translation and notes

THE LIBRARY OF THE

UNIVERSITY OF

NORTH CAROLINA

ENDOWED BY THE

DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC

SOCIETIES

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398.0968
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This BOOK may be kept out ONE MONTH
ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE
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DAY indicated below:

UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL

00012744113

THE TREASURY

OF

BA-SUTO LORE

BEING ORIGINAL SE-SUTO TEXTS, WITH A LITERAL ENGLISH
TRANSLATION AND NOTES

PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIREC

E. JACOTTET

OF THE PARIS EVANGELICAL MISSION S OETY

VOL. I.

Sesuto Book Depot
Mori j a, Basutoland (South Africa)

Keg an, Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., 43, Gerrard St., London, W.

1908.

Mori j a Printing Office
Basutoland (S. A.)

fOLK-TTUES OP THE B?i~SUTO

COLLECTED BY

E. JACOTTET

First Part

985872

TO THE MEMORY

OF

EUGENE CASALIS AND THOMAS ARBOUSSET

THE PIONEER MISSIONARIES OF BASUTOLAND,

WHO WERE THE FIRST TO STUDY ITS LANGUAGE, CUSTOMS AND TRADITIONS,

AND TO PUBLISH FOLK-TALES OF SOUTH AFRICA

^s*«-

Preface vii

PREFACE

The plan and purpose of the work I am now undertaking have
been fully explained in the prospectus issued in June, 1907. It
may perhaps be well to reprint here its most important para-
graphs :

"The importance of the study of the customs, traditions, folk-
tales, etc., of the native races has long been recognised by the
learned public of Europe, and it is being more and more realised
in all branches of research. South Africa offers for this study
quite unique opportunities, being the home of so many different
native races, which are perhaps easier to get at and know
intimately than elsewhere.

"Although a certain number of important works have been
published on this subject in English, French and German, which
enable us to become better acquainted with some South African
tribes, it can be safely said that the task has not yet been
systematically attempted.

"The purpose of the work for which we now claim the help of
the South African and English public, is to try to save as much
as possible of the traditional lore of the Ba-Suto of Basutoland
as can still be collected. This we desire to undertake as soon
as possible if the necessary support is forthcoming. Everybody
at all interested in the subject knows that it is already high time
this was done, as in another generation most of it will be
irremediably lost, owing to the more and more irresistible influx
of European ideas, and the great changes going on all over the
country. Some people would even say that it is already too
late and that the most important data have been lost. The
present writer would be inclined to agree with this, if it were
not for the fact that he commenced his collections years ago,
when the older generation was still alive, and that he has secured
for his undertaking the support of a few natives who have made
it their business to collect and study the traditions of their tribe.
He feels that he would be wrong to allow such important in-
formation to remain unpublished, and that it ought now to be
issued for the benefit of the public at large and of coming
generations. It is certain that, in the course of time, the im-
portance of such studies will be more and more realised in South
Africa, and that now is the time to attempt to supply the

viii FOLK-TALES

necessary materials, because later on it will be quite impossible.

"It is our earnest hope that what we endeavour to do for
Basutoland, will be eventually done for the Transkei, Natal,
Zululand, Transvaal, Bechuanalancl and Rhodesia, not to men-
tion the German and Portuguese territories. Following the
example of Bishop Callaway in his Zulu tales and traditions we
intend to publish original Se-Suto texts, written down from the
lips of the natives, or by natives themselves, with a literal
English translation. The editor will be responsible for the
choice of the texts, the translation, the necessary notes and
introductions, but will not interfere in the least with the texts,
which will be published exactly as given out by the natives
themselves. We shall in this way possess the ipsissima verba of
the natives themselves, not as often happens, European com-
mentaries upon their traditions or customs. The book will be a
collection of first hand documents, without any admixture of
Europeans ideas. The student will in this way be able to know
the Ba-Suto as they are, not as we see them.

"It is intended to publish in this series from eight to ten volumes.

"Two of them will contain the traditional history of the Ba-
Suto, and their different clans, as told by their old men, from the
beginning of the 19th century down to 1870.

"Three volumes will be devoted to folk-tales ; some of the
Ba-Suto tales have already being published by Mr Casalis and
myself, but this collection will be much more complete and
far more useful, as it will give the correct Se-Suto text.

"Another volume will contain an important collection of Se-
Suto Proverbs, with a complete explanation of their meaning.

"Another will give a collection of their songs of different kinds,
such as war songs, songs sung when working, etc., childrens'
rhymes and riddles.

"Another volume written by a native will contain a complete
account of the traditional customs, ideas and supertitions of the
Ba-Suto.

"Another volume will give a complete grammar of the language
written on scientific lines, and we may perhaps add, if it can be
arranged, a Se-Suto-Engiish Dictionary.

"As may be observed the work when complete will be useful
both to linguists and ethnologists, a well nigh complete library
of native Se-Suto literature, and of the Se-Suto language."

The response made to the prospectus was not encouraging.
The number of intending subscribers fell far short of what
was deemed necessary ; and at a time it almost seemed as if it

Preface ix

would be impossible to go on with the work. But I ultimately
decided to issue the first volume in the hope that it may even-
tually meet with at least sufficient success to cover its expenses.
This decision was facilitated by the generosity with which His
Honour H. C. Sloley, Esq., Resident Commissioner of Basutolancl,
helped the undertaking by a handsome grant, fully recognising
its value for Basutoland. To him, and to His Excellency Lord
Selborne, High Commissioner for South Africa, I beg to tender
my best thanks. Were it not for the practical interest they have
manifested in it, this Treasury could never have been printed.

If this first volume meets with the necessary encouragement,
I intend to issue, as soon as possible the subsequent volumes, so
as to be able, with God's help, to conclude the task in the
course of three or four years.

This publication ought to be welcome to the South African
public. It will help them to understand better the large native
population which forms such an important part of the inhabit-
ants of these colonies. It will also suply the increasingly
numerous scholars interested in the Bantu languages with a
number of genuine Se-Suto texts. Nor will its importance be
less to the Ba-Suto themselves ; it will help them to preserve
their traditions and their language, and to keep in touch with a
past which has now gone for ever. A purely Se-Suto edition of
most of our volumes will make the work easy of access to them.

In the second volume, wich will deal with the historical tradi-
tions of the country, and will, we hope, be published after a
short interval, all the information as to the origin of the Ba-
Suto, their ethnic affinities and their geographical habitat will
be given. It is therefore not thought necessary to deal here
with these questions. The only thing to be pointed out, so as to
avoid possible misunderstandings, is that all our texts are written
in Se-Suto proper, that is, the special Se-Suto dialect spoken by
the inhabitants of Basutoland, and only such tales and traditions
as are current among them will be embodied in our work. The
Ba-Pedi and other Transvaal natives, known under the name of
Northern Ba-Suto, are quite distinct from Moshesh's tribe ; what
concerns them will not be found there.

This publication follows the usual Se-Suto orthography which
is now accepted by all Mission Societies working in the country,
and three years ago received official recognition. It will be found
explained in my Practical Method to learn Se-Suto (Morija, 1906),
as well as in the larger and more scientific grammar I propose
to issue in a subsquent volume. In order to enable European

x FOLK-TALES

to pronounce the proper names, which will throughout be written
in the authorised Se-Suto orthography, it may be said that as a
rule vowels are pronounced as in Italian and the consonants as
in English. Exceptions are the aspirates th and ph which are
pronounced like aspirated t and p (not th as in think, or ph — f),
and kh which sounds like a k followed by a hard guttural (as in
the Scotch word loch). L before i and u sounds very much like
the English d. The guttural click q with its aspirated or nasal
modifications qh and ng has naturally no parallel in English.
The sound written hi is also peculiar to South African languages
and can be said to resemble closely the Welsh //.

For the names of Bantu tribes and languages I have decided
to follow in the English text and notes the method adopted for
many years in most European books of ethnography, and which
consists in separating by a hyphen the root word from its prefix.
I write therefore, in the plural, Ba-Suto, Be-Chwana, Ma-Tebele,
not Basutos, Bechuanas, Matebeles (in these names the prefixes
ba, be and ma show that the words are in the plural number, it
would be pleonastic to add to them the plural suffix s of the
English language). An individual of these tribes is(with the singu-
lar prefix mo or le) a Mo-Suto, a Mo-Chwana, a Le-Tebelt. The
languages are called Se-Suto, Se-Chwana, Se-Tebele (with the
prefix se, which in more northern languages is ki, tji, or chi). In
the same way the country is called Le-Suto For the adjective
we have adopted throughout the work the plural form Ba-Suto,
Be-Chwana, thus we speak of a Ba-Suto village, a Be-Chwana
custom, etc.

In many ethnic names like Zulu, Swazi, etc. it is already
customary to drop the prefix altogether, and to write a Zulu, a
Swazi, Zulus and Swazis, Zululand, Swaziland, etc. This practice
we naturally follow in the case of such names. It is by far the
best method, and it is a pity that it was not universally adopted
at an earlier time. We would like to adopt it in all cases, but
we feel it is useless to try and fight against an established
habit ; were we to speak of a Suto, a Chwana, or of the Suto or
Chwana language, we would probably not be understood. It
would be practically impossible now to change into Sutoland
and Chwanaland the names of the native protectorates un-
iversally known under the names of Basutoland and Bechuana-
land. E. J.

MORIJA

Basutoland, 29 September 1908

Index xi

INDEX

Page

Preface ... ... ... ... vii

Introduction ... , ... ... ... xiii

I — The Nyamatsanes ... ... 2

II — The Little Hare ... . . ... 16

III — The Mphotanyane ... ... 26

IV — The Jackal ... ... ... 32

V — The Jackal, the Dove, the Crane and the

Leopard ... ... ... 36

VI — Leobu ... ... ... 4&

VII — The four young men ... ... 50

VIII — Moleso oa Likhomo ... ... 54

IX — Masilo and Masilonyane :.. ... 56

X — Tselane ... ... ... 62

XI — Moshanyana oa Senkatana (1st version) 70

XII — Moshanyana oa Senkatana (2nd version) 76

XIII — Masilo and Thakane ... ... 80

XIV — Bulane and Tselane ... ... 90

XV — The Bird that excretes milk .. 100

XIV — Seetetelane ... ... ... 108

XVII — Kumonngoe ... ... ... 112

; XVIII — Monyohe (1st version) ... . 126

XIX — Monyohe (2nd version) ... .. 134

XX — Maliane ... ... ... 140

XXI — Monyohe (3rd version) ... ... 148

XXII — Bulane and Senkepeng ... ... 152

XXIII — Ntotoatsana ... ... .. 160

XXIV — Mosimoli and Mosimotsane ... 166
XXV — Marailane 'abo Khosi ... ... 176

XXVI — Ntetekoane ... ... ... 180

XXVII — Seilatsatsi oa Mohale ... ... 184

XXVIII — The child with a moon on his breast 190

XXIX — Nkolobe ... ... ... 196

XXX — The Nanaboleles ... ... 20O

xii

FOLK-TALES

Page

XXXI-

- Selomakupu

208

XXXII -

- Sekholomi and Takalasi

214

XXXIII-

- The Mothemelle ...

220

XXXIV -

- Soenyane oabo Soentšeng ...

232

XXXV-

- Kooma

238

XXXVI -

- Polo and Khoahlakhubelu ..

246

XXXVII -

- Litokotoko

254

XXXVIII -

- Limo and 'Maliepetsane

258

XXXIX -

- Moriana ... ...

262

XL-

-Obu ...

266

XLI-

- Raseretsana

276

XLII-

■ Masilo and Masilonyane

282

Introduction xiii

INTRODUCTION

Is is no more necessary, happily, to make any apology for
publishing a volume devoted to "nursery tales." The time has
passed-when such productions were considered unworthy the
attention and study of the learned public. Since the brothers
Grimm, following in a more scientific way the example set by
Ch. Perrault in the 17th century, published about a hundred
years ago the folk-tales of Germany, nursery tales and every-
thing connected with them have been considered an important
object of investigation and study. And to-day hundreds of
devoted workers in Europe and America are busily employed
in this field of research.

"Children's tales now, but not the invention of a child's intel-
lect, nor all invented to gratify a child's fancy," to quote Calla-
way's words, the stories which are transmitted orally from one
generation to another deserve to arrest the attention of the an-
thropologist, the historian and the philosopher. They take us
back, as it were, to the earlier ages of humanity, show us what
were the conditions and the environment in which our first fore-
fathers lived, and, more faithfully perhaps than anything else,
give us an insight into the working of the primitive human
mind. If anything can be considered now as almost beyond
any possible doubt, it is the antiquity of the folk-tales. They
are, in their general tenour, sometimes even in many of their
details, older than the oldest literary monuments of the ancient
world.

Nothing enables us better than the study of folk-lore to see
that the human mind is practically the same under all climes
and among all races of mankind, civilised or still barbarian.
One cannot but be struck by the similarity of thought and
structure displayed in the folk-tales of Europe, Asia, America
and Africa. Readers of this volume will not fail to notice how
strangely similar some of our stories are to those with which
they were familiar in their infancy in far away England, France
or Germany. And they offer as many points of contact with
the tales and legends of ancient Greece or Rome. They go
even beyond those. Writers have often pointed out in African
tales features which reminded them of the earliest chapters of
the book of Genesis. It is not necessary to conclude, as some

xiv FOLK-TALES

have done too hastily, that the traditions of Israel or Babylon
were known in one way or another by the Bantu of Central or
Southern Africa. The similarity is probably due to the fact
that in all countries and among all races, the incidents and
thoughts upon which the human fancy draws are sensibly the
same. Thus the murder of Masilonyane by his elder brother
Masilo is, just like the murder of Abel by Cain, only another
version of a history as old as the human race, the jealousy of
an elder brother towards his more successful younger brother.
Gunkel in his suggestive commentary on Genesis has shown in
a masterly way how much light the study of folk-lore sheds on
the first book of the Bible, and how it helps us to a better under-
standing of its beautiful stories.

Africa has treasures, for the most part still hidden, in store for
the student of folk-lore. As it has been for so many centuries
untouched by European civilisation, it is the most promising
field of research and investigation. Here we find races which
are still more or less in the same state of civilisation as were
the Gauls, the Germans or the Britons before the time of Cae-
sar and Augustus. The special features of African society, its
family rights, its beliefs and superstitions, help us to understand
better the past of our own race. It is this which makes this
study so fascinating. I do not, of course, say that our first
forefathers were exactly what the Bantu of to-day are, but there
is certainly similarity enough to allow us to draw some inferen-
ces and to gain from the study of African tribal life some
insight into the state of European society in its prehistoric days.

The study of African folk-lore, of African tales in particular,
is quite new, and was only really begun in the second half of
last century. But in a sense it may be said to be very old.
Herodotus the father of histonr, more modern in this than most
historians who followed him, did not consider it beneath his
dignity to draw from the treasures of Egyptian folk-lore some
of its best gems, and presented the Greeks of his time with the
first African folk-tales ever known by the civilised world. His
version of the well known story of the treasure of Rampsinit
is in all memories. And some years ago Maspero made us
acquainted with other folk-tales from old Egypt, recovered
from the buried papyri. In so far African tales may be said to
be the oldest on record. But twenty five centuries had to elapse
before other students began to follow the example of Herodo-
tus, and to make us acquainted with the folk-lore and the folk-
tales of this continent.

Introduction xv

As in nearly all other matters connected with modern inves-
tigations in savage Africa, it was the missionaries who were
the first in this work; and till to-day they have kept it in their
hands. If I am not mistaken, to Eugene Casalis and Thomas
Arbousset, the pioneer missionaries of Basutoland, belongs the
honour of having made known to the European public the
first specimens of Bantu folk-tales. In 1841 Casalis published
in his Etudes sur la langue Sechuana (i. e. Se-Suto) three of the
most interesting Ba-Suto stories (The murder of Masilonyane,
Kammapa and Litaolane, and The little hare). The following
year (1842) Arbousset gave, in his Relation d'iin voyage d' explora-
tion, a fourth story, that of Tselane. For nearly two decades
these were the only Bantu or South African folk-tales known to
the learned world. It is but fitting that the names of those two
pioneers should be recorded on the front page of this volume.

In the sixties the importance of this special branch ©f anthro-
pology became more recognised. This is due, above all, to the
great interest manifested in the subject by Sir George Grey, one
of the greatest Governors South Africa has possessed. By the
foundation of the Grey Library he created a centre for research
and study and a repository for the information he wanted to
collect. He and his friend and helper, Dr Bleek, the first custo-
dian of the Grey Library, endeavoured to interest missionaries,
Government officials, traders and others in the subject of folk-
lore, and urged them to collect all accessible information. The
numerous manuscripts deposited in the Grey Library at that
time are a proof that their efforts met with a fair amount of
success. It is to them also that we are indebted, directly or
indirectly, for some of the most important collections of South
African tales.

In 1864 Dr Bleek published in his Reynard the Fox in South
Africa quite a number of interesting Hottentot tales ( mostly
animal tales ) collected at his or Sir G. Grey's instigation by
missionaries. This is the first South African book solely
devoted to this subject. It did much to draw to South African
folk-lore the attention of European scientists. The similarity
of these artless tales to the famous Roman du Renard, one of the
most popular works of the Middle Ages, could not fail to strike
all their readers. In 1875 Bleek again published in his Brief
Account of Bushman Folk-Lore a resume of his researches on the
language and traditions of the Bushmen. In 1889 Miss L. C.
Lloyd, his faithful collaborator and the continuator of his
labours, gave in her Short Account of further Bushman Materia]

xvi FOLK-TALES

the condensed result of her own investigations. According to
this last report the collection of Bushman texts made by Dr Bleek
and Miss Lloyd amounted in 1889 to over 12,000 half pages, the
larger part of it translated and annotated, besides a Bushman
dictionary in which in 1875 more than 11,000 entries had already
been made. We cannot deplore sufficiently the fact that so far
nothing has been done to publish in a form accessible to the
scientific world the most important part of such invaluable in-
formation. Till this is done Bushman folk-lore will be to us a
closed book. It is surely not right that the result of such pro-
tracted and patient labours should remain unpublished.

Bleek's example was soon followed. In May 1866 Canon,
afterwards Bishop, Callaway began the publication of his rich
collections of Zulu folk-lore. His first volume, the Nursery
Tales of the Zulus, completed in 1868, gives us a large number
of most interesting tales ; his second volume, the Religious
System of the Amazulu, 1870, makes us acquainted with the
religious traditions of that tribe. Unhappily, as so often
happens in South Africa, want of interest and lack of support
prevented Callaway publishing more than these two volumes,
the second had even to remain unfinished. This is much to be
deplored, especially as Callaway's books were prepared on the
best and most careful method. They remain to-day an unsurpas-
sed, perhaps unapproached, model of what a publication of that
kind should be. Thoroughly acquainted with the Zulu
language, he was not content to give us, as Bleek in Reynard
the Fox, a mere translation of the tales, but gave us the Zulu
text itself. Very full notes and explanations by Zulus
themselves ( in their own Zulu speech with a literal translation )
greatly enhance the value of his books.

About the same time, in a quite different corner of Africa,
another missionary of the Church of England, Bishop Steere,
published his delightful Swahili Tales, as told by Natives of
Zanzibar ( i860, ). Following the example of Callaway he gave
the Swahili text of the tales with an English translation and
notes. As was but to be expected most of Steere's Swahili
tales betray a very strong Arabian influence, some of them being-
taken, by oral tradition, from the Arabian Nights ; but some of
the tales, und many incidents in the others are certainly of
genuinely Bantu origin.

In 1879 a small Folk-Lore Society was formed in Cape Town,
but, in spite of the enthusiasm of its secretary, Miss L. C. Lloyd,
it did not live long in the chilling climate of South Africa.

Introduction xvii

Though efforts were made to secure the cooperation of
missionaries and others, its magazine, the Folk-Lore Journal
disappeared after a short existence of two years. But it had
meanwnhile published a number of interesting Zulu, Kaffir,
Be-Chwana, Herero and Hottentot stories in the native text with
a literal English translation.

Not long afterwards, in 1882, Dr Theal, the well known
historian of South Africa, gave in his book Kaffir Folk-Lore a
rather large collection of the folk-tales of the Frontier Kaffirs
or Ama-Xosa. Most of them had already been published by
him in different magazines. They resemble to a considerable
extent, as is only natural, the Zulu tales of Callaway. Theal
gives only an English translation of his Kaffir tales, and very
few notes to help the reader. Interesting and useful as his
book is, it cannot be said to rank with Callaway's masterly
publications.1

In 1886 a collection of fifteen Herero tales, made many years
before at the request of Sir G. Grey and deposited in the Grey
Library by Mr Rath, a German missionary, was published as an
appendix to Brincker's Otji-Herero Woerterbuch, in the Herero
text and with a literal German translation.2

Since the last decade of the 19th century the interest taken in
Bantu languages has had as one of its results an increase in
the publication of books devoted to African folk-lore, especially
folk-tales. In a German book Maerchen aus Kamerun, Mrs Elli
Meinhof gave in 1888 a translation, or rather an adaptation, of
six Duala stories from Cameroons. In 1894 there appeared the
Folk-Tales of Angola by Chatelain, a splendid publication worthy
to be ranked with Callaway's, in which the Ki-Mbundu text of
fifty stories is published together with an English translation.
About the same time Canon Woodward published nineteen
Bondei stories from East Africa, but as only the native text is
given his collection is accessible to very few scholars. The
same may be said of the twenty five Ba-Suto tales given in
Se-Suto only by A. Sekese, in his book Mekhoa ea ba-Sotho.

1 Five more Kaffir stories are given us, both in the Xosa text and in an
English translation, by Father Torrend in his Outline of a Xosa-Kaffir Grammar
(1887) and in his Comparative Grammar of South African Bantu languages (1891)

2 Later on, in 1888, Buettner published in the 1st volume of his Zeitschrift
fur Afrikanische Sprachen four other Herero stories (Herero text and German

translation).

xviii FOLK-TALES

In 1895 appeared my Contes populaires des Bassoutos, a
collection of twenty three Ba-Snto stories in a French translation.
Six other tales had been, before this, published by me in the
Revue des Traditions populaires, 1888-1890. Junod followed in 1897
with his book Les Chants et les Contes des Ba-Ronga, giving in
French translation thirty folk-tales from Delagoa Bay. Nine
others in the native text and a French translation followed in
1898 from the same author in a second book, Les Ba-Ronga, a
nearly exhaustive monograph on Ronga ethnology.1 In 1898
there also appeared the book of Dennett, Notes on the Folk-lore
of the Fjort ( or as it should rather be Fiote ) which made us
acquainted with about thirty tales from the French Congo in
an English translation. In 1899 and 1901 I published in the
second ( Textes Soubiya) and third volume ( Textes Louyi ) of my
Etudes sur les langues du Haut Zambeze over a hundred folk-tales
from the Upper Zambezi, in the native text with a literal French
translation. The last important collection of Bantu folk-lore
known to me is Trilles, Proverbes, Legendes et Contes Fang
( French Congo ), who gives us in a French translation a large
number of folk-tales ; four of them are also in the native text.

I do not pretend to give an exhaustive list of all collections
of Bantu tales. Some may possibly have escaped my notice,
for living as I do at a great distance from any large library,
and having at my disposal only the books I have been able to
purchase, I cannot hope to know all that has been published
of late on the subject.

Besides the collections referred to above a large number of
Bantu tales have appeared in scientific magazines or in books
of travel or ethnography. Some Nyasaland stories were printed
by Elmslie in Folk-Lore, 1892. In the appendices to the two
volumes of Macdonald, Afrieana, we are given fifty seven short
Yao tales from Lake Nyasa. The Manuel de Langue Luganda
has in its second edition, ( 1894 ), fourteen tales from Uganda
( better Bu-Ganda ) in the native text and a French translation.
In Smith's Handbook of the Ila language, published last year, we
find a certain number of folk-tales in the native language
without any translation. But I must most especially mention
the Zeitsehri ft fur afrikanische und oceanisehe Spraehen, edited by

I In 1895 I had already given in the Revue des Traditions populaires a French
translation of 9 Ronga tales.

Introduction xix

Seidel ; in that excellent publication there have appeared since
1894 quite a number of tales, all in the native text with German
or French translations. Among them there is a collection of
ten short tales from Nyasaland communicated by Miss A.
Werner, and one of ten longer, and most interesting, stories of
the Ba-Sumbwa of German East Africa from Father Capus.

It is perhaps worth while noticing that, with the exception,
of Bleek, Theal and Dennett, all the collections of folk-tales
we have are due to missionaries, mostly protestant. This is
but natural, as by their very duties missionaries are obliged
to live in closer contact with African natives than most
other European residents and learn on the whole to know
them more intimately and to understand them better.
. If we go beyond the borders of the Bantu field, we find
that even less is known of the folk-tales of the large Negro
populations of West Africa and the Sudan. Besides the
collections of Bornu Tales by Koelle, the Magana Hausa of
Schoen, the Contes de la Sènègambie of Berenger-Ferand very,
little has, so far, been published. We may add some Ashanti
tales given by Perregaux in his French book Chez les Achanti ; and
a small collection of interesting tales from Togoland given in
the Evhe text with a German translation by Haennert in the
Zeitschrift fur afrik. und ocean. Sprachen, VI, under the title :
Aus der Volkslitteratur der Evheer. Some references will be made
to them in our notes.

Much has been published in the last years on the folk-tales
of the Berbers and the Moors of North Africa, on the folk-lore
of the Masai, and of the Hamitic and Semitic populations of
the Nile Valley. But they belong to a quite different field, and
we are not concerned with them in this publication. In the
notes which I have added to the Ba-Suto tales references will
only be made to Bantu and South African folk-tales, occasionally
too to the folk-lore of the Negroes. I have purposely refrained
from going beyond those. To have done so would have
increased the scope of our work far too much ; it would,
besides, have necessitated researches which I have neither the
time nor the means to undertake.

The Bantu tribes of South Africa south of the Limpopo form
two very distinct branches, viz. the Eastern or Kaffir branch
East and South of the Drakensberg, and the Ba-Suto or Be-
Chwana branch on the high plateau West and North of the
Drakensberg, as far North as the Limpopo and as far West as

xx FOLK-TALES

the Kalahari Desert. The Thonga and kindred tribes which
inhabit the country North of St. Lucia's Bay as far up as
Inhambane may be said, broadly speaking, to belong to the
Kaffir branch; in the same way, the Ba-Venda or Ba-Tswetla
of Zoutpansberg are closely connected with the Ba-Suto or
Be-Chwana branch.

Leaving the Ba-Venda alone, the Ba-Suto or Be-Chwana fa-
mily, which probably comprises \Y2 to 2 million people, may be
divided into two great divisions,the Western branchorBe-Chwana,
and the Eastern branch or Ba-Suto. The Be-Chwana inhabit
the whole of Bechuanaland, the western half of the Transvaal
and part of the Orange River Colony. They speak dialects
very closely allied to one another, and which probably repre-
sent an earlier form of the language, more guttural and archaic.
They are divided into a large number of small tribes or clans,,
such as the Ba-Mangwato, the Ba-Ngwaketsi, the Ba-Kwena,
the Ba-Rolong, the Ba-Tlhaping, the Ba-Khatla, the Ba-Hurutsi,
etc. The Eastern or Ba-Suto branch inhabit the Eastern half of
the Transvaal high plateau, part of the Orange River Colony
and the whole of Basutoland. They represent what Theal calls
the mountain tribes of South Africa. They may be subdivided
into a Northern or Transvaal branch, speaking a large number
of closely related dialects, of which the Se-Peli is the most im-
portant, and a Southern branch, the Ba-Suto proper, in Basutoland
and a portion of the Orange River Colony and Griqualand
East. It is this last branch alone which forms the subject of this
work.1

Be-Chwana folk-lore is known to us only by a very few tales
published in Folk-Lore Journal and in Crisp's little book The
Bcchuana of South Africa (also in Sepelcta sa Secoana). Other
Be-Chwana tales exist in manuscript in the Grey Library. Of
the folk-lore of the Northern Ba-Suto, or Ba-Peli, even less has
been published. Beyond a few songs printed by Endemann in
Zcitschrift fur afrik. und ocean. Sprachen and in his Versuch einer
Grammatik des Sotho, and some articles by Merensky in various
magazines (see especially Till Euhnspiegel in Slid Afrika in Mit-

I The Ba-Suto of Basutoland speak of the Transvaal Ba-Suto as the Ma-Aoar
as all their tribes use the word aoa to say no. They, in their turn, are known in
the Transvaal as the Ma-Chc, as they use the word die in the same sense. In the
same way North and South French used to be distinguished in the Middle Ages
by the names of langite d'oc and languc d'oil, according to the word used to say yes-

Introduction xxi

tcilungen der Geographischen Gessellschaft zu Jena, 1888), it may be
said to be still terra incognita. It is to be hoped that in the near
future more will be done to make the folk-tales of the Northern
Ba-Suto known to us. The scientific societies of Pretoria and
Johannesburg should encourage or undertake the work of col-
lecting them before it is too late.

Basutoland proper has been far less neglected. As already
said Casalis and Arbousset published as early as 1841 and 1842
some of its folk-tales. In Casalis' Etudes sur la langue Sechuana
there are also found a certain number of Ba-Suto proverbs,
songs and riddles, unhappily only in French. In a later book,
Les Bassoutos, published in 1859, Casalis also gave a wonder-
fully full and accurate description of the customs, beliefs and
.superstitions of the tribe. He had had the rare chance of
knowing the Ba-Suto intimately before their intercourse with
Europeans had begun to influence them. One can only regret
that his book is too condensed, and that he, probably uncons-
ciously, tries somewhat to render the Ba-Suto and their customs
more acceptable to European taste. His book, though abso-
lutely reliable, has to be used with some care. Of my Contes
des Bassoutos I need not speak at length ; the little book contains
a literal French translation of Ba-Suto tales collected by me.
A rich collection of Ba-Suto proverbs, with a full explanation
of their meaning, has been published in 1907 at the Sesuto
Book Depot in Morija by A. Sekese (Mekhoa le Maele a ba-Sotho)
but in Se-Suto only. In the first edition a certain number of
folk-tales were included. It is a very cheering sign of the
times to see that the Ba-Suto themselves begin to be interested
in their own folk-lore and help to save it from its imminent
ruin. In this respect, as in many others, the Ba-Suto show a
national and patriotic spirit which does not exist, in the same
degree at least, in other South African tribes. It augurs well
for the future development of their nationality.

To be complete we must not fail to mention a little book
published in 1903 by Mrs Minnie Martin on Basutoland, its
Legends and Customs. It is a well written and interesting book,
and its descriptions of Basutoland scenery and life are worth
reading. But in its historical part it is unhappily not quite
reliable, and the tales (ten in number) it gives are too much
arranged and europeanised to be of any value to students of
folk-lore.

Of the other books treating of the history or the language of
Basutoland nothing need be said now. They will be noticed

xxii FOLK-TALES

in the volumes of the Treasury dealing with those special
subjects.

A few words are necessary to show how the tales given in
this volume have been collected. Nearly all of them have been
written down at the dictation of competent natives either by me
or by friends, among whom I mostly desire to thank Mr. and
Mrs. Dieterlen of Leribe, who collected some of the very best
for me. Only two or three have been taken verbatim from A.
Sekese's book. We have thus the ipsissima verba of the Natives
themselves, the very Se-Suto as it is spoken in every day life,
without any admixture of European ideas or speech. Our
texts are true specimens of Se-Suto and give an absolutely
accurate image of the true language of the people. I have
taken great care to reproduce them exactly in the form they
were dictated to me, and have not tried to reduce them to any
given standard. Ba-Suto scholars will easily notice that the
stories come from different persons ; some of them are far better
in style than others. In a few archaisms are still to be found,
in others Se-Chwana or other dialectic forms may be detected.

Of my informants some, like Moshe Mosetse (one of the
oldest converts of Basutoland, born before 1810) and 'Mama-
ngana were old men or women ; others, like Francina and 'Maoni
were middle aged women ; others again were unmarried girls,
young men or herd boys. We have in this way specimens of
Se-Suto as spoken by all classes of the population.

The translation has been made as literally as possible, but in
such a way as not to interfere with its being easily read and
understood. I am only sorry that my imperfect knowledge of
English did not allow me to make it more graphic or varied.
That it is not more imperfect is mostly clue to the help kindly
tendered by my friend Mr. J. C. Smith, who has taken the
trouble to correct the English text of this volume and has
helped me in other ways. To him my best thanks are clue.

On the origin of those folk-tales I have no theory of my own
to offer. This difficult task can be safely left to more competent
scholars. But there are two things at least which appear to be
beyond any possible doubt. The first is that these tales are, on
the whole, very, very old. The very fact that some of them at
least are told in exactly the same mariner among the Ba-Suto
and the Be-Chwana (see among others the story of Masilo and
Masilonyane) is a sufficient proof that they existed in their

Introduction xxiii

present form before those two branches of the Ba-Suto family
had separated, that is at least hundreds of years ago. And
their similarity with the Ronga, Zulu, and Zambezi, etc. tales
known to us, a similarity which extends in many cases to their
very details, is another proof that they existed in a form not
very different at a time when the Bantu speaking tribes of to-
day formed but one nation, which means at least two thousand
years ago, probably even a far more remote past.

1 do not mean by this that we have them to-day exactly as
they were in that far away time, and that they have not
undergone changes in that long period. They have had, of
course, to adapt themselves in some of their details to the
changed circumstances of the different Bantu tribes ; a story
born under the Tropics cannot remain exactly the same when
told and retold on the treeless uplands of the Transvaal or
among the mountains of Basutoland. Its clothing, its setting
will naturally have to be changed. We can easily understand
how such alterations and adaptations have been made, for this
very process is going on now under our own eyes. Careful
readers of our tales will notice it without difficulty. Guns,
horses, waggons, white men, etc. begin to appear in tales which
originally had nothing of the kind. Mention is now made of
schools, European garments, food, etc. in order to modernize
the tales and bring them into accord with the altered circum-
stances of the present time.

The changes which all the South African tribes, the Ba-Suto
not excepted, better protected though they are by their national
organisation, have now to undergo are such that they are in
danger of losing altogether, or at least of altering considerably,
their old stock of traditional stories. Many of the tales now
told by the younger boys or girls present a considerable admix-
ture of incidents taken from Dutch or English stories. And
perhaps the time is not far distant when Bantu and European
tales will be so completely mixed up and interwoven that it may
become nearly impossible to distinguish between the different
elements out of which they are made.

But apart from such mixed stories just beginning to creep
into Basutoland, it is in my opinion absolutely beyond any
possible doubt — and this is the second point I wished to
emphasise — that the Ba-Suto tales as told by their old men and
women are still wonderfully free from all foreign admixture.
They belong to the genuine store of Bantu traditional stories,
as a comparison with the Zulu, Ronga and Zambezi tales will

xxiv FOLK-TALES

easily prove. They are far less tainted with European or
Asiatic elements than many Angolan or Ronga tales, to judge
from the collections of Chatelain and Junod. This is only
natural in view of the isolated position of the Ba-Suto who
only began to come into direct contact with Europeans in 1833,
and who even before had had very little intercourse with the
Zulus or Kaffirs of the East Coast. In speaking so I do not
deny that some foreign infuence may have been brought to
bear upon our tales in ages gone by. No nation has ever been
so completely isolated as not to draw anything from another
nation or race. But in the case of the Ba-Suto tales such
borrowed elements have been so completely assimilated that they
have become an integral part, as is were, of them, and cannot
any more be distinguished.

Whoever will take the trouble to compare our collection of
Ba-Suto tales with similar collections among other Bantu tribes
will not fail to see that there is such a similarity between them
that we have certainly the right to speak of a general Bantu
(or at least African) type of folk-tales. It is for this reason
among others that in the foot notes appended to the tales I
have contented myself with pointing out the points of contact
with Bantu, and to some extent Hottentot and Negro tales. In
preparing those notes for the press I have been struck by the
fact that there are especially numerous resemblances between
Ba-Suto and Kaffir or Zulu tales, amounting in some cases to
complete similarity, and that the points of contact with Ronga
and Zambezi tales are not much less numerous. Going beyond
the Zambezi, there is a greater amount of likeness between our
tales and those of Eastern Africa than between both of them
and Western Bantu Africa. If it is true, as many anthropologists
maintain, that the bulk of West Africans who now speak Bantu
dialects belonged originally to another race, this fact would
not astonish us ; it would but add one argument more in favour
of that theory. But this relative dissimilarity must not be
pressed too much, as in many stories from West Africa we can
point out striking resemblances to the Ba-Suto and Zulu tales.

In the preface to his Nursery Talcs of the Zulus, Callaway said
years ago : "In reflecting on the tales of the Zulus, the belief
has been irresistibly fixed upon my mind, that they point out
clearly that the Zulus are a degenerated people ; that they are
not now in the condition intellectually and physically in which
they were during 'the legend producing period' of their
existence, but have sunk from a higher state. " After having

Introduction xxv

carefully perused Callaway's own books as well as all the
other available collections of Bantu tales, I cannot find in them
any sufficient ground for such an opinion. It rather seems to
me that the Ba-Suto, like all other Bantu tales, however and
wherever they may have originated, are now so thoroughly
Bantu, and reflect so completely the mind of the Bantu populations
of the present day, that we cannot detect in them the smallest bit
of evidence in favour of Callaway's view. It may be that the
Bantu, or at least some of their tribes, have been at some period
of their history in contact with a more highly developed race
(as may perhaps be inferred from the old Zimbambwe ruins),
but that they themselves have fallen from a higher state is more
than doubtful. It is more probable that, though very slowly,
.they have advanced from a lower grade of civilisation to the
state in which Europeans found them. Many weighty reasons
may be advanced in support of this view.

As regards the Ba-Suto or other Bantu tales, they can broadly
speaking be divided into three different categories, 1st, mar-
vellous tales, which are by far the most numerous, in which
occur incidents belonging to the fabulous world ; 2nd, animal
tales; and 3rd, moral or household tales, which do not contain
any marvellous elements.

The first and second categories cannot be absolutely
distinguished from one another, as marvellous incidents occur
also in most animals tales, and there are besides many stories
in which animals and human beings appear indiscriminately.
And again in some versions of the same story the actor is
sometimes an animal, somtimes a human being. The tales of
the third category which, for want of a better term, I call moral
or household stories, are exceedingly rare in Ba-Suto, as also
in Ronga, Zulu and Kaffir folk-lore. They are more numerous
on the Zambezi, where a certain number of the tales I collected
relate with much gusto the tricks by which men try to
overreach each other. In West Africa again, as with the
Negroes, they seem more numerous and more varied ; in
Chatelain's book some have even a real philosophical value.
According to him they form in Angolan folk-lore a special
genre, and are known under a name different from the other
tales. They are probably not so old as the others, neither do
they ever contain the sung parts which are such a general char-
acteristic of the marvellous and most of the animal tales all
over Africa.

xxvi FOLK-TALES

Special reference must be made to the animal tales which are
one of the most interesting and characteristic features of Bantu
folk-lore. They are particularly numerous on the Zambezi. At
Delagoa Bay also, among the Ba-Ronga, they form a most
important part of the tales collected by Junod and myself. The
Ba-Suto know them, but to a less degree. Strange to say, in
Zulu and Kaffir folk-lore they seem to be almost absent. Calla-
way has practically none and Theal only a few. In West Africa,
among the Angolese, the Fangs and the Fiote of the French
Congo and the Dualas of the Cameroons animal tales are again
very numerous ; they are also so in Nyasaland and Eastern
Africa, as far as we can judge from the scanty materials at our
disposal. In most of them in nearly all Africa, with the exception
of some parts of West Africa, especially among the Fangs,
where the hare is unknown, it is the hare which is the cunning
animal par excellence. In Africa it takes the place of the fox
in European tales, and most of the stories in which it appears
are so similar to those we find in Reynard the Fox of European
fame that, were it not for the fact that such tales are found all
the world over, it might well have been as ked whether we had not
here to reckon with European influence. But their African and
Bantu origin cannot possibly be doubted.

The fact that so many animal stories are found all over the
Bantu field disproves altogether the opinion expressed by Bleek
in the preface to his Reynard the Fox in South Africa (pp. XX~
XXII) that animal stories were unkown to Bantu, and belonged
only to Hottentot folk-lore. This was due, in his opinion, to
the languages themselves; the Hottentots, speaking a " sex-
denoting language" were able to rise to the personification of
impersonal beings and in that way produced animal tales,
whilst the Bantu, speaking genderless languages, were unable
to attribute personality to animals and consequently could not
develop animal tales. This rather far-fetched theory was quite
in accordance with the teaching of a certain philological school
then in the ascendant in Europe, of which Max Muller was the
most popular exponent, according to which the origin of my-
thology was ascribed to linguistic influences in "sex-denoting
languages." As at that time most Bantu tales were still un-
discovered and only some portions of Zulu and Herero folk-lore
known, Bleek's theory seemed probable, and the authority of
his name secured its more or less universal acceptance, though
the Ba-Suto story of Little Hare published by Casalis as early
as 1841 ought to have made Bleek and his school more cautious.

Introduction xxvn

Even the publication of Callaway's tales in 1868 did not over-
throw it, indeed it rather seemed to strengthen it, as scarcely any
animal stories were found among them. It so happens that all
the stories told of Little Hare in other Bantu tribes are, in Zulu
folk-lore attributed to a semi-human dwarf called Uhlakanyana,
a name meaning the Weasel. It seemed as if the Zulus had no
animal tales, whereas, as a matter of fact, in personifying the
weasel and making it into a human being, the Zulus proved
that they possessed in a high degree the very faculty of per-
sonification which Bleek's theory would deny them.

To-day the Bantu origin of animal tales can no more be
doubted, and Bleek would be the first to recognise it. But a
question remains which is not yet completely solved. In some
.Kaffir, Ba-Suto and even Ronga tales the jackal (the African
representative of the European fox) takes the place of the hare
of general Bantu folk-lore. As the same feature is found in most
Hottentot stories, the question may be asked whether such
animal stories in which the jackal does appear are not due to
Hottentot influence. For details I refer readers to the notes to
Nos. Ill and IV of this collection, where the question is discussed.
It appears to me that the substitution itself of the jackal for the
hare is very probably due to Hottentot influence, but that most
tales in which this substitution has taken place are, without any
postible doubt, of genuine Bantu origin, as in the parallel stories
in other Bantu languages it is the hare and not the jackal that
is the hero of the tale. It is only in cases in which no Bantu
parallel is known to exist that the Hottentot origin of the tale
itself should be considered as probable. A further question
might well be raised, viz. whether it was really the jackal that
originally represented the cunning animal in Hottentot folk-lore
itself. Some not inconsiderable reasons would appear to me to
favour the view that among the Hottentots the hare originally
played the same part as all over Africa, and that the substitution
for it of the jackal in their folk-lore itself is probably due to the
influence of the early Dutch settlers (see among others, a note on p.
47, where it is shown that in the Hottentot version of the myth
of The origin of Death the hare plays a most important part).

The tales published in this volume are but a first instalment
of the Ba-Suto tales already collected by me. I hope to be able
to present to my readers next year a second instalment of them.
This will depend on the encouragement this present volume
receives. It must first find a sale if others are to follow. If the

xxviii FOLK-TALES

naive and artless, but in their way interesting, tales it contains
please my readers enough to make them wish for more, I can,
like the devoted sister in the Arabian Nights promise them as
interesting ones. Let me hope that like hers my efforts may be
crowned with success. Af course the simple and unadorned
story of the Ba-Suto cannot be compared with the wealth of
wit and fancy to be found in the Persian and Arabian stories
which are so beautifully told in the Arabian Nights, but they
are in their way worthy of more than passing attention, and
they help us, to some extent, to enter that closed chamber, the
Native mind, and to understand a little better what passes in it.

FOLK-TALES OF THE BA-SUTO

First part

FOLK-TALES OF THE BA-SUTO

i

THE NYAMATSANES l

Once upon a time a woman said to her husband : If you loved
me, you would kill a nyamatsane,2 bake its liver, and give it me
to eat. If you do so, 1 shall see that you love me. He said to
her : When you cook your bread take out the scrapings of the
pot, and fill a bag with them. The wife took out the scrapings
of the pot for days, she filled a bag with them for days. The
bag was completely filled. Then she told her husband, she said :
To-day the bag is full. Her husband said : Now I shall go and
kill a nyamatsane.

So he went away on a long journey in search of the nyama-
tsanes. He went on, eating his bread scrapings ; at last he arriv-
ed where there were lots of nyamatsanes ; they were living
near a large marsh. He found that the nyamatsanes were away,
having gone to pasture far away. They had left only an old
nyamatsane woman at home. That man approached quickly,
killed the old woman, flayed her, took out the liver quickly. He
then made a bag of the skin of the old woman, and went into
it.

The nyamatsanes arrived ; they came up, coming back to the

I This tale is made up of two distinct parts, viz. the story of the nyamatsanes
and Mokhali oa Molata and some adventures of Little Hare. As early as 1841
Casalis gave it in the same form, but with more adventures of Little Hare added
{Etudes sur la langue Sechuana, p. 100 ; also Les Bassontos, p. 366) ; it is also to
be found in my Co ntes populaires des Bassontos (p. 3). It would seem as if the
tale of the nyamatsanes was considered by many story tellers as the usual in-
troduction to Little Hare's adventures. With others the beginning is different ;
so in A. Sekese's book (Mckhoa ea ba-Sotho p. 209) Little Hare's story is prefaced
with a version of the Mphotanyane's tale (cf. no. IV).

The story of the nyamatsanes is found in other Ba-Suto tales ; so in the tale
of the nanaboleles which is given in this volume, and in that of Semumu and Se-
mumunyane which is to appear in another volume (a French translation of it is given
in Revue des Traditions populaires, 1888) ; in both the animals are called nanabo-
leles. In Zulu folklore the tale of Ugungqu-kubantwana (CALLAWAY, Nursery
Tales of the Zulus, p. 154) is very similar to it, the fabulous animals receiving-
there the name of izingogo (cf. ibid. p. 177) ; the most important difference is
that the episode of the woman drinking the pool is placed before the story of
the eating of the liver, not after it as in the Ba-Suto tale.

UTSOMO TSfl BBSOTHO

I
LINYAMATSANE

Ba re e ne e re e le mosali, a re ho monna oa hae : Hojane
ua nthata, u ka ea mpolaela nyamatsane, ua ntša sebete sa eona,
ka se ja ; ke tla bona hobane ua nthata, ha u ka etsa joalo.
Eaba o re ho eena : U phehe bohobe, joale u o fale bohoho, u
bo tlatse mokotlana. Joale mosali enoa a 'na a fala bohoho ka
matsatsi, a bo tsela mokotlaneng ka matsatsi. Mokotlana oa ba
oa tlala haholo. Joale a tsebisa monna oa hae, a re : Kajeno
mokotlana o tletse. Eaba monna oa hae o re : Joale ke tsamaea,.
ke ea bolaea nyamatsane.

Joale a tsamaea, a nka leeto le lelelele ho ea batla linyama-
tsane. A 'na a tsamaea, a ja bohoho bona, a ba a fihla hole
moo linyamatsane li leng teng tse ngata, mohlakeng o moholo
moo li lulang teng. A fumana linyamatsane li le sieo, li alohe-
tse hole, li siile leqheku la nyamatsane hae. Eaba monna eo o
fihla kapele, a boiaea leqheku leo, a le bua, a ntša sebete ka-
pele-pele; a ba a etsa mokotlana ka leqheku lena, a kena ka
hare ho lona.

Tsa fihla, tsa tla, tsa nyoloha, li hopotse ho nkhono'a tsona.

For the second part of this tale, and the adventures of Little Hare generally,
which form no inconsiderable portion of Bantu folklore, compare especially
JUNOD, Chants et Contes des Ba-Ronga, pp. 90-98 ; JACOTTET, Etudes sur les lan-
gues du Haut Zambeze; vol. II Textes Soubiya, pp. 1-47 and vol. Ill Textes Louyi,.
pp. 1-34; and Contes du pays de Gaza in Revue des Trad. pop. 1895, pp. 377-384,
In all these tales the hare is the cunning animal par excellence. In Zulu and
Kaffir folklore we must compare CALLAWAY, Nursery Tales pp. 1-40, and THEAL,.
Kaffir Folklore, pp. 84-IIO, where a wicked human being called Uhlakanyana takes
the place of .the hare, and among the Ba-Ronga, JUNOD, op. cit, pp. 109-130,
where the frog is made to play the same part. Other references will be given
for the special incidents.

Among the Hottentots, and to a certain extent also the Kaffirs, the Ba-Suto
and the Ba-Ronga, the jackal replaces the hare as the cunning animal. Whe-
ther this is owing to European influence or not is difficult to decide.

2 Nyamatsane usually means any kind of wild beast. But in this tale fabulous
animals (called in other tales or versions linyamakhama and linanabolele) are
evidently meant. The story tellers do not attempt to give any description of
them.

4 FOLK-TALES

old woman. When they were near, they said : We smell hu-
man flesh. They walked all round the hut, saying : We smell
human flesh. The old woman said : No, my children, there is
no human flesh. But they said : We smell human flesh. Then
they were silent and slept. In the morning they rose and went
in search of food.

As they were still distrustful they said : Grandmother, let us
go in search of food. It was pebbles they were eating. Now
that man also stooped down on all fours, took pebbles, but in-
stead of eating them was eating the bread scrapings in his bag.
So they were satisfied that it was really their grandmother.
They slept again. Next morning they said : Let us go and
jump over the great donga.1 They drew near, and all jumped
saying : You also must jump, grandmother. He jumped. Now
they left off being distrustful. They went again on a long
journey far away, and left him at home.

Now that man took the liver of the nyamatsane from where
he had hidden it. He went out of the skin of the nyamatsane,
and ran away quickly. He took a small, smooth stone, and
kept it in his bag together with the liver of the nyamatsane.
They came back, the nyamatsanes, home to their grandmother.
When they arrived, they found that their grandmother was
dead ; it was only her hide. They were very angry, and said
to the others : You see we were right to be distrustful, and to
say that we smelt human flesh.

They took his spoor and followed him. When he had already
gone far, he looked behind and saw a thin column of dust going
up in the air. He exclaimed : Alas, there are the nyamatsanes.
They are going to kill me to-day. They came, they came with
a great swiftness ; they saw him when they were already very
near. He took the stone from his bag, and threw it on the
ground when he saw them near him. It became a mountain,
steep and smooth ; he climbed it.2 They tried to climb ; they could
not as it was too slippery. They tried it all day, over and over
again ; they could not climb. They were tired and slept.

Now during the night, when they were asleep, the man arose
and went on ; he went on a long, long way. They arose and
found that he had gone ; they took his spoor, felt it with their
noses, and pursued him, running with a great swiftness. They

1 In Zulu folklore (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 177) the izingogo eat red earth, and
make use of a similar test to find out whether the disguised man is really one
of them.

2 The incident of the stone or any other object (it is a stick in the tale of
Semumu and Semumunyane) becoming an inaccessible mountain is very frequent

The Nyamatsanes 5

Ha li fihla, li re : Senthu3 se nkha kae ? Li pota-pota, li boela li
re : Senthu se nkha kae ? Joale leqhekoana la re : Che, bana ba
ka, ha ho senthu. Empa tsona tsa re : Senthu se nkha kae ?
Joale tsa khutsa, tsa robala. Hosasa tsa tsoha li ea sela.

Ka hobane li ne li belaela, tsa re: Nkhono, ha re tsamaeeng,
re ee ho sela. Joale li ne li ja majoana. Joale monna enoa a
'na a inama le eena, a thola majoana ; joale a 'na a ja bohoho
ka mokotlaneng oa hae. Joale tsa kholoa hobane e fela e le
nkhono'a tsona. Joale tsa boela tsa robala hape. Hosasa tsa
re : Ha re tsamaeeng ho tlōla lengope le leholo. Tsa fihla, tsa
tšethema kaofela, tsa re : Le uena, nkhono, tšethema. A tše-
thema. Joale tsa lesa ho belaela. Joale tsa boela tsa nka leeto
le lelelele la ho ea hole ; tsa mo siea hae.

Joale eaba monna enoa o ntša sebete sa nyamatsane moo a
se patileng teng. Eaba o tsoa ka lekokong lena la nyamatsane,
a ipha linaha. Eaba o nka lejoe la morallana, le boreletsana, a
le boloka ka mokotleng oa hae le sona sebete sa nyamatsane.
Tsa nyoloha linyamatsane, li hopotse ho nkhono'a tsona hae.
Joale eitse ha li fihla, tsa fumana hobane nkhono'a tsona o
shoele, hoba ke lekoko feela. Tsa e-ba bohale, tsa re ho tse
ling : Lea bona, re ne re bolele, ra re : Na senthu se nkha kae ?

Joale tsa utloa mohlala oa hae, tsa mo sala morao. Eitse ha a
se a le hole, a reteleha, a bona lerōle le lesesane le hlabile holi-
mo, a re : Jo ! ke linyamatsane, li tla mpolaea kajeno. Tsa tla,
tsa 'na tsa tla ka lebelo le leholo, tsa ba tsa 'mona ha li le haufi
le eena. Eaba o ntša lejoe lena la morallana mokotlaneng, a
le akhela fatse, ha a li bonela haufi. Eaba le fetoha thaba e
boreletsana; eaba o hloa holim'a eona. Tsa rata ho hloa,
empa tsa sitoa, tsa thella. Tsa leka letsatsi kaofela ; tsa sitoa
ho hloa, tsa ba tsa khathala, tsa robala teng.

Joale monna eo, bosiu ha li robetse, a tsoha, a tsamaea, a tsa-
maea haholo sebaka se selelele. Tsa tsoha, tsa fumana hobane
otsamaile; tsa utloa mohlala oa hae, tsa o fofonela ka linko,
tsa mo latella, li ntse li matha ka lebelo le leholo. Tsa ba tsa fihla

in folklore, but, as far as I know, is very rarely found in African tales.

3 Senthu meaning something human (here human flesh) is a Zulu form ; in
Se-Suto it would be sethō. In Ba-Suto stories all cannibals are usually made to
speak Zulu, and. this is the usual cannibal manner of speaking when they smell
human flesh.

6 FOLK-TALES

drew near to him again ; he was watching them all the time.
When he saw them quite near, he took the stone from his bag
and threw it on the ground. It became a mountain ; he climbed
it. They arrived, tried to climb it, but, as before, could not.
They tried the whole clay, then they slept again for the second
time.

He rose again and went on his way, the nyamatsanes being
still asleep. When he was already far away, they arose, smelt
his spoor, and pursued him. They went on, they pursued him,
they overtook him. When he saw them near, he took the stone
from his bag, threw it on the ground ; it became a mountain.
He climbed it and sat there. When they arrived, they tried to
climb but could not. They went all round the mountain to find
a way. They got tired and slept.

In the middle of the night, when they were asleep for the
third time, he came down, went on his journey, and passed
through the desert with all his might, so that he might succeed
in reaching home. When he was already far away, they arose,
smelt his spoor with their noses, and followed it. They went
on. He looked behind again, and saw a column of dust going
up into the air. He cried : Woe to me, I have eaten something
which will not leave me.1 He went on his way, at a loss what
to do. They came, they came, they drew near. When he saw
them near, he took the stone from his bag, and threw it on the
ground. It became a mountain, and he climbed it. They arri-
ved dreadfully angry. They went round the mountain; they
kept on doing so the whole day, trying to kill him. But they
could not.

Now they had run many, many days.. They went to sleep
very tired, because they had run so long and so hard. Now the
man ran away again during the night. He descended from the
mountain when they were asleep, and at last reached home.
When they arose they found that he had arrived at his village.
When they tried to go there, they were afraid of the dogs, and
went back.

Now the man exclaimed : Ichu-u-u ! how tired I am. He said
to his wife : Give me water to drink. He drank. He found
himself refreshed after his fatigue. He said to his wife : Fetch
some dung to make a fire. The wife took some dung and made
a big fire. She made a great fire of dung. Now the man open-
ed his bag, took out the liver of the nyamatsane, and said :

I Ke jele khomo ea molatelle, lit. I have eaten an ox of following up, is a pro-
verbial expression meaning that I have done something, the bad consequences
of which I cannot get rid of.

The Nyamatsanes 7

haufi le eena hape ; a 'na a li talima. Eitse ha a li bonela haufi,
a ntša lejoe ka mokotlaneng, a le akhela fatše, la fetoha thaba-
na, a hloa holim'a eona. Eaba lia fihla, tsa rata ho hloa holi-
mo, tsa sitoa joale ka pele. Tsa leka letsatsi lohle, tsa ba tsa
robala teng hape la bobeli.

A boela a tsoela pele hape-hape, a 'na a tsamaea, li sa robetse
linyamatsane. Eare ha a sa le hole, sebaka se selelele, tsa
tsoha, tsa boela tsa fofonela, tsa mo sala morao. Tsa 'na tsa ea,
tsa mo sala morao, tsa ba tsa mo fihlela. Eare ha a li bonela haufi
le eena, a ntša lejoe lena ka mokotlaneng, a le akhela fatše ; la
fetoha thabana, a hloa holim'a eona, a lula teng. Joale ha li
fihla, tsa rata ho hloa, tsa sitoa. Tsa pota thabana ho batla
khoro, tsa ba tsa khathala, tsa robala teng.

Eare bosiu bo boholo, ha li robetse hape la boraro, a theoha,
a tsamaea, a tsamaea, a hahola masaba-saba ka matla a maholo,
hore a iphe sebaka sa ho ea hae. Eitse ha a le hole, tsa tsoha,
tsa fofonela hape ka linko, tsa sala mohlala oa hae morao. Tsa
tsamaea. A boela a reteleha, a bona lerōle le hlabile holimo,
a re : A 'na eloa ! ke jele khomo ea molatelle. A tsoela pele
leetong la hae, ha a se a tsotile. Tsa 'na tsa tla, tsa ba tsa fihla.
Eitse ha a li bonela haufi, a ntša lejoe mokotlaneng, a le akhela
fatse, la fetoha thabana, a hloa holim'a eona. Tsa fihla li hale-
file haholo, tsa pota thabana ka matla, tsa e pota letsatsi lohle,
li rata ho 'molaea. Empa tsa sitoa.

Joale li se li tsamaile ka litsiu tse ngata ; tsa robala li kha-
thetse haholo, hobane li tsamaile halelele. Joale monna eo,
bosiu, a thoba, a theoha thabeng hoja li robetse, a ba a ea fihla
ha habo. Joale ha li tsoha, tsa fumana a se a fihlile motseng
oa habo. Eitse ha li e-tla, tsa tšaba lintja, tsa khutla.

Joale monna eo a re : Ichu-u-u ! ke khathetse hakakang ! A
re ho mosali oa hae : Ak'u mphe metsi, ke noe. Eaba oa noa.
Joale a iqetha khororo ea mokhathala. Eaba o re ho mosali :
Ea nka lisu tsa ho besa mollo. Eaba mosali o nka lisu, a besa
mollo o moholo. Joale a makha mollo oa lisu. Joale monna a
tlamolla mokotlana, a ntša sebete sa nyamatsane, a re : Ke

8 FOLK-TALES

Here is a liver of nyamatsane. You said you would believe
that I loved you, if I killed a nyamatsane. He added : Send
away all my children, let them remain outside. The woman
roasted the liver of the nyamatsane, and put it on a piece of
broken pot. The man said : Eat it, the whole of it ; do not give
any part of it to anybody ; do not give any part of it to my
children ; you alone must eat it. His wife ate it, the whole of
it.

When she had finished, she became thirsty. She drank the
water in her pitcher, all of it. She went to another woman and
said : My sister, give me some water. She gave her some in a
big calabash. She drank it all, and said : My sister, give me
some more. The woman said : Why, you want to finish the
water of my children. She went to the court1 of another woman,
and said : Give me some water, please, my sister ; I am thirsty.
She answered : Go yourself to the pitcher and drink. She took
it, and finished it at once. She went out. She went to another
court again, and said : Oh, my sister, give me some water to
drink ; I am thirsty. The woman said : Go and take the water
in the pitcher, and drink. She took the pitcher and drank all
the water at once. The woman went to the pitcher and found
that all the water was gone. She clapped her hands in wonder,
and exclaimed : The mother of so and so has drunk all my
water.

She went on, entered another court, and said : Give me some
water, I am thirsty. They said : Give her some water. They
gave her in a calabash. She finished it and said : Give me some
more ; I am thirsty. They gave her some ; she asked again a
third time. The people of the but wondered and said : Why,
you finish all our water. They gave her the pitcher, she took it
and finished all the water at once. She went away, going-
round all that big village. She asked for water again in
another court. They said : There is water in the pitcher, you
may drink. She finished it. Now when she had finished all
the water of the village, she went to the fountain, she drew
near, stooped down, and gulped all the water of the fountain,
the whole of it. She went up to another fountain, she drank
all the water at once, all of it. She went to a third one, she
drank all the water at once, all of it. She finished all the foun-
tains of the village.

I Every native house in Basutoland has in front of it a generally semicircular
courtyard (called Iclapa or seolloana) enclosed by reeds — hence in these tales it will
often be found translated as reed enclosure — in which cooking and most household
operations take place. It is where the women pass most of their time, where

The Nyamatsanes 9

sena sebete sa nyamatsane ; u itse u tla lumela hoba kea u rata,
ha ke tsoa bolaea nyamatsane. Joale a re ho eena : U ntše
bana ba ka kaofela, ba ee kantle. Eaba oa se besa, sebe-
te sena, a se bea lengetaneng. Joale a re : U se je, u se qete, u
se ke ua ba ua fa motho le a mong; le ngoan'a ka le a mong,
u se ke ua ba ua mo fa ; u je u 'notši. Eaba mosali oa se ja,
oa se qeta.

Ha a se qeta, a nyoroa ; a noa metsi nkhong ea hae, a e qeta.
A ea ho mosali e mong, a re : Ngoan'eso, ak'u mphe metsi. A
mo khella ka mohope oa sephōko. A noa, a qeta, a re : Ngoa-
n'eso, nkhelle hape. Mosali enoa : Ao ! u qeta metsi a bana ba
ka. A fetela hape ka lapeng la mosali e mong, a re : Ak'u
mphe metsi, ngoan'eso, ke noe ; ke nyoriloe. Ba re : E-ea
mane nkhong, u noe. A nka, a a re rii kaofela. Ea ba oatsoa.
A ea ka seotloaneng se seng hape, a re: Ak'u mphe metsi,
ngoan'eso, ke noe ; ke nyoriloe. Ba re : Ea bona metsi mane
nkhong, u noe. A nka nkho, a a re rii hape. Mosali a ea
nkhong, a fumana metsi a le sieo kaofela. A le opa, a le re jaa,
a re : 'Ma-'nyeo o noele metsi a ka kaofela.

A tsamaea hape, a ken a lapeng le leng, a re : Mphe metsi, ke
nyoriloe. Ba re : Mo khelleng. Ba mo khella ka mohope, a
qeta, a re : Nkhelleng metsi hape, ke nyoriloe. Ba mo khella,
a ba a kōpa la boraro. Ba tsota beng ba lelapa, ba re : Ao, u
qeta metsi a rōna. Ba mo nea ka nkho, a a nka hape, a a re rii,
a a qeta. A tsamaea ; a 'na a ea le motse, o le moholo, a qela
metsi hape ka seotloaneng se seng. Ba re : Metsi ke ane
nkhong, noa. A 'na a a qeta. Joale ha a qeta a motse kaofela,
a ea selibeng, a fihla, a inamela, a monya seliba, a se qeta. A
nyoloha, a ea ho se seng hape ; o ile a se re rii le sona, a se qe-
ta. A fetela ho se seng sa boraro, a se re rii le sona, a se qeta.
A ba a qeta liliba tsa motse kaofela.

the meals are taken, and where the family assembles at night round the fire.
The lelapa takes in Ba-Suto life the same place as the parlour and dining room
of European houses.

10 FOLK-TALES

Now she went to the brook near the village, she drew near
and stooped down where the brook entered another rivulet. She
drank, she finished all the water of the brook. She weni. on to
the river, she drew near, knelt down and drank all the river.
She drank even the mud, She rose and said : I am not yet sat-
isfied. She went on to another river; she drank it, she finished
all its water. Now she went to the big pool of the animals. She
drew near, knelt down, and drank. Now when she had finished
all the water in the pool of the animals, she was unable to go
away, because her belly was very big ; it was higher than her
own head, it was even bigger than the mountains.

The animals arrived very thirsty, wanting to drink. They
found that all the water in the pool was gone. Now they saw
a very big object lying near their pool. Then Great Lion said :
Who is it, who is it, who is lying near the fountain of my grand-
father ? Great Lion asked a second time : Who is it, who is it,
who is lying near the fountain of my grandfather ? They drew
near and found that it was Mokhali oa Molata.1 Now they ask-
ed her : Why are you lying near the fountain of our grand-
father ? She anwered : I wanted to go away, but the fountain
held me fast. They asked her a second time and told her to go
away. She answered : I wanted to go away, but the fountain
held me fast.

Now the chief said to the animals : Who is going to pierce
her ? They said : Rabbit, pierce her. He said : Oh chief, I am
afraid. They said : Little hare, pierce her.2 He said : Oh chief,
what can I do to such a big thing ? They said : Reebock, pierce
her. He said : Oh, I cannot do it. Thus they refused, all
the animals. But at last little hare pierced her. He stood up and
pierced her with his nail. Now lots of water came out of her.
The pool was full, and the rivers, and the brooks, and the foun-
tains.

Now Great Lion gave the order that nobody should drink till
the water was clear again.3 The animals went away into their
dens. It was said that they would drink in the morning when
the water had become clear. When little hare saw that all the
animals were asleep, he rose during the night and went to drink
in the pool of Great Lion. Then little hare took some mud and

1 Mokhali oa Molata means Mokhali daughter of Molata. In the tale of
Ugungqu-kubantwana (Callaway, op. cit. p. 1 66) the old woman is likewise una-
ble to depart after having drunk the water of the animals. But she is not said
to have drunk so largely as in our story.

2 In Casalis' version (Les Bassoutos p. 367) it is the ostrich which rends open
the stomach of the woman.

3 The story of a pool or fountain from which no one must drink is found

The Nyamatsanes II

A ea nōkaneng e pel'a motse ; a fihla, a inama moo nōkana
e kenang teng ho e 'ngoe. A noa, a e qeta kaofela. A tsamaea,
a ea nōkeng e kholo ; a fihla, a khumama ka mangole, a e noa,
a e qeta. A ba a noa le seretse. A inamoloha, a re : Ha ke
e-so ho kholoe. A fetela ho e 'ngoe hape, a e noa, a e re rii, a e
qeta mosali enoa. Joale a ea letšeng le leholo la liphoofolo, a
fihla teng, a inama, a noa. Joale ha a se a qetile letša lena la
liphoofolo, a sitoa ho tloha, hobane mpa ea hae e ne e le kholo
haholo, e ne e feta le hloho ea hae, e ne e feta'le lithaba.

Joale liphoofolo tsa tla li nyoriloe, li rata ho noa. Tsa fuma-
na hobane metsi ha a eo letšeng la tsona. Joale tsa bona ntho
ea tonanahali e lutseng teng letšeng la tsona. Joale eaba mo-
tau moholo o re : Na ke mang, ke mang ea lutseng selibeng sa
rare moholo ? Motau moholo a boela a eketsa a re : Na ke mang,
ke mang ea lutseng selibeng sa rare moholo ? Joale tsa atamela,
tsa fumana Mokhali oa Molata. Joale he tsa 'motsa, tsa re : Na
u luletse'ng selibeng sa rare moholo ? A ba a araba, a re : Ke
re ka re kea tloha, liba se ntšoere. Tsa boela tsa 'motsa, tsa re
a tlohe. A re : Ke re ka re kea tloha, liba se ntšoere.

Joale ha thoe ho liphoofolo : Na ke mang ea tla ea phunya ?
Ha thoe : Hlolo, phunya. A re : Monghali, kea tsaba. Ha
thoe : 'Mutlanyana, phunya. A re : Morena, nka etsa'ng ntho
e le kale ? Ha thoe : Letsa, phunya. A re ; Oo ! kea sitoa. Tsa
itatola joalo kaofela liphoofolo. Joale kamorao ha phunya
'mutlanyana. Joale a ema, a phunya ka lenala, eaba ho tsoa
metsi a mangata, letša la tlala, le linōka, le linōkana, le liliba.

Joale motau moholo a bea molao hore ba se ke ba e-noa, me-
tsi a be a hloeke. Eaba liphoofolo lia khutla, li ea mesimeng
ea tsona. Ha thoe ho tla nooa hosasane, ha metsi a hloe-
kile. Joale 'mutlanyana a bona hore benghali ba robetse ;
eaba oa tsoha bosiu, o ea noa letseng la motau moholo.
Joale 'mutlanyana a tla le seretse, a neta hlolo mangoleng,

again in no. IV of this volume. The lion is here, as in most animal tales, the
king of the animals (in Casalis' version it is the elephant). It is given here a
somewhat human name, motau moholo (Great Lion), the prefix mo — which belongs
to nouns designating human beings — being placed before the noun tan, lion.
It is the only example known to me in Se-Suto of a construction which is very
common in the animal tales of the Zulus and other Bantu tribes.

12 FOLK-TALES

besmeared the rabbit's knees with it, the lips, the forehead, the
nose, and the tail, so that it should be seen that it was he who
had drunk the water during the night.1

In the morning Great Lion arose and went before the others
to the pool of the animals. He examined carefully and found
that somebody had troubled the water. Great Lion asked : Who
is it, who is it, who has drunk my water ? Little hare hastened
to answer him quickly with cunning. He looked all round
and pointed to the rabbit, saying : Look at him, it is he who
has drunk the water of the chief. He said : Look at the mud
on the knees and mouth of the rabbit. The rabbit tried to deny
it, saying sorrowfully : It is not I who have drunk the water.
Now Great Lion said : Get hold of him and thrash him.

Next morning, after the rabbit had been taken and beaten,
little hare boasted about himself, and said : I drank the water,,
I drank the water, and I said it was the rabbit. One of them
heard him, and said : Hear ! little hare, what do you say ? Little
hare answered quickly with cunning : I asked you to give me
your walking sticks. He said again another time, when they
were watching him : I drank, I drank, I drank the water, and
said it was the rabbit. Now one of the animals said to Great
Lion : Do you hear what little hare says ? Great Lion answered :
Yes, I hear it. They asked little hare : What are you saying ?
He said : It is I who drank the water, and I said it was the rab-
bit. And little hare hastened to run away quickly. The ani-
mals pursued him.

Now little hare saw a crevice in the rocks, and entered quickly
into it, only his ear projected outside. They vainly tried to
draw at the ear; little hare held fast in the crevice. They
pierced his ear with their needles. At last they left him and
returned home. Little hare came out ; he found the rabbit and
told him : Well man, to-day I have been beaten like you. The
rabbit answered : Oh man, you have clone me wrong, you drank
the water and said it was I. Little hare answered quickly :
Come my friend, let us go together and I shall teach you
cunning.2

They went on together, and arrived near a hole. Little hare
said : Let us burn each other. The rabbit answered : You must

1 The very same trick is found in the Zulu tale of Ugungqu-kubantwana (CAL-
LAWAY, op. cit. p. 169) and in a story from Gazaland (Revue des Trad. pop. 1895,
p. 473). The hare plays a similar trick to the elephant in some Zambezi and
Ronga tales (cf. JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 30 ; JUNOD, op. cit. p. 98 ; Revue des
Trad. pop. 1895, p. 382). For incidents of the same nature cf. also THEAL, op. cit.
p. 90 ; JACOTTET, Textes Loityi, p. 6 ; BLEEK, Reynard the Fox, p. 1 8.

2 This incident will be found better introduced in the next tale. In a Ronga

The Nyamatsanes 15.

le molomong, le phatleng, le nkong, le ka mohatleng, hore ho
bonoe hobane ke eena ea noeleng metsi bosiu.

Joale hosasane motau moholo a tsoha, a ea pele letšeng la
liphoofolo. Joale a hlahloba, a fumana hobane e mong o teng
ea lukileng metsi. Joale motau moholo a botsa, a re : Na ke
mang, ke mang ea noeleng metsi na? 'Mutlanyana a phakisa a
mo araba kapele, ka masene, a thalatsa, a be a se a supa hlolo
kapele, a re : Mo talimeng, ke eena ea noeleng metsi a morena.
Joale a re : Bonang seretse mangoleng le molomong oa hlolo.
Hlolo a mpa a itatola a soabile, a re : Hase 'na ea noeleng me-
tsi. Joale motau moholo a re : Mo tšoareng, le mo shape.

Joale hobane hlolo e tšoaroe, hosasane 'mutlanyana a ithorisa,
a re : Ka noa-noa metsi, ka noa-noa metsi, ka re ke hlolo. E
mong a mo araba, a re : Utloa ! 'mutlanyana u re'ng na ? 'Mu-
tlanyana ka masene, kapele : Ke re u 'nee melamu ea ka. A
boela a eketsa hape, ha ba lebetse, a re : Ka noa-noa metsi, ka
noa-noa metsi, ka re ke hlolo. Joale phoofolo e 'ngoe ea re ho
motau moholo : Na u utloa se boleloang ke 'mutlanyana na?
Joale motau moholo a re : E, ke ntse ke utloa. Joale ba botsa
'mutlanyana, ba re : U ntso u re'ng na ? Eena a re : Ke 'na ke
noeleng metsi, ka re ke hlolo. Joale eaba 'mutlanyana o pha-
kisa a baleha ka lebelo. Eaba liphoofolo lia mo phallisa.

Joale 'mutlanyana a bona lepetsonyana, a kena teng kapele,
a re chole ka lepetsong, a hlahisa tsebe. Ba tsoatsoile ba tosa
tsebe, 'mutlanyana a itšoarella ka lepetsong. Ba mo hlaba ka
mamao tsebeng, ba ba ba mo tela, ba khutlela hae. Joale 'mu-
tlanyana a tsoa, a fumana hlolo, a re : Monna, kajeko le 'na ke
shapiloe joale ka uena. Joale hlolo a re: Monna, u nkentse
hampe, hobane u noele metsi, ua re ke 'na. Joale 'mutlanyana a
phakisa a re: Tlo, motsoalle, re tsamaee, ke u rate" tsa bohlale.

Joale ba tsamaea le hlolo ; ba fihla moo mokoti o leng teng.
Joale 'mutlanyana a re : Ha re besane. Joale hlolo a re : U ipe-

tale (JUNOD, op. cit. p. 90), the hare kills the antelope in the same manner to
make flutes of its bones ; in another (ibid. p. 112) it is the frog which does so..
In Zulu and Kaffir folklore Uhlakanyana does the same to an old woman (CAL-
LAWAY op. cit. p. 18; Theal, op. cit. p. 93) ; so also does a traveller in a tale
from Nyasaland (told by Elmslie in Folklore, 1892, p. 103).

The animal we call rabbit in this tale is really another kind of hare, the red
hare.

14 FOLK-TALES

begin. Little hare picked some prickly berries and held them
in his hands. He said : Well man, let us make a big fire. They
made a big fire in the hole. Then little hare said to the rabbit :
Put me in. The rabbit took little hare and put him in. When
little hare felt that the fire was becoming very hot, he threw the
berries into it. They went pop. He said : Rabbit, hear, my
skin is beginning to burst ; oh man, quick ! take me out. The
rabbit took him out. Little hare put the rabbit in. The
rabbit said : Little hare, take me out, I am burning. Little hare
took him out. The rabbit said : Look how my skin is already
scorched. Little hare said : As for me, my skin is very hard ; it
does not get scorched quickly. Let us make a big fire, and go
into it again.

The rabbit and little hare made a bigger fire. Little hare put
the rabbit in again. But when the rabbit cried : Little hare, I
am burning, little hare refused to take him out. He was burned,
he died, only his bones were left. When the fire was out,
little hare went into the hole and found the bones of the rabbit.
He took them to make flutes. He sang :

Pii, pii, the rabbit is but a little boy.

He burned me, but I was not roasted; I burned him and he was roasted.
A frog asked him : What are you saying, little hare ? Little
hare sang again a second time :

Pii, pii, the rabbit is but a little boy;

He burned me, but I was not roasted; I burned him and he was roasted.
Afterwards little hare became the servant of Great Lion. He
said to him : Grandfather, let me show you what you must do to
kill lots of game. Great Lion said : All right. L ittle hare said :
Let us dig a hole. They dug it in the cattle kraal. They dug a
big hole. Little hare said : Grandfather, go into it, and lie
down as if you were dead, with only your teeth showing. Great
Lion did so. Little hare stood on the wall of the kraal, took his
flutes and sang :l

Pii, pii, all animals come and see,
Teeth have grown out from the ground.
The animals heard and came running. Little hare said : All
of you must go into the kraal, none must remain outside. They
all came inside. At last came the baboon, carrying her little
one on her back. She drew near, took a bit of grass, and pricked
Great Lion in the anus; the anus contracted. The baboon said :
My grandchild, come and let me carry you on my back ;
Here lies a corpse whose anus contracts.

I In a Luyi tale (JACOTTET, Textes Louyi, p. 3) the lion, on the hare's advice,
feigns in the same way to be dead, in order to kill the animals. So also does
Hlakanyana, advised by the jackal, in a Kaffir story (THEAL, op. cit. p. 108). — In
some Ba-Suto versions, the incident of the teeth growing out of the ground is
omitted, the lion merely pretending to be dead. In these versions the song of

The Nyamatsanes IS

se pele. Joale 'mutlanyana o na a e-kha moqhinyetsane, a o
tšoara. Joale a re : Monna, ha re bese mollo haholo. Joale ba
besa sekoti haholo. Joale 'mutlanyana a re ho hlolo : Nkenye.
Joale hlolo a nka 'mutlanyana, a mo kenya. Joale 'mutlanyana
ha a qala ho utloa mollo o futhumala, a akhela moqhinyetsane.
Joale oa qhoma ; joale a re : Hlolo, utloa, ke se ke qhoma ; mo-
nna, ntšole kapele. Joale hlolo a mo tsola. Joale 'mutlanyana
a kenya hlolo. Joale hlolo a re : 'Mutlanyana, ntšole, kea cha.
Eaba 'mutlanyana oa mo ntša. Joale a re : Ak'u bone letlalo
la ka le se le sosobane; ke hlolo. Joale 'mutlanyana a re : 'Na,
tlalo la ka le thata, ha le sosobane kapele ; re boele re bese ha-
holo, re kene hape.

Eaba hlolo le 'mutlanyana ba eketsa mollo; 'mutlanyana a
boela a kenya hlolo. Hlolo o itse ka re : 'Mutlanyana, kea cha,
'mutlanyana a hana ho mo tšola. A cha, a ba a shoa, a tsoa
masapong. Joale 'mutlanyana, hoba mollo o time, a kena ka
sekoting, a fumana masapo a hlolo. Eaba oa a kuka ho etsa
liphala ka 'ona. Joale a re :

. Pii, pii, hlolo ke moshemanyana,
A mpesa ke se butsoe, ka 'mesa a butsoa.
Eaba nketjoane e re: U re'ng na, 'mutlanyana? Eaba 'mutla-
nyana o boela a eketsa a re :

Pii, pii, hlolo ke moshemanyane,
A mpesa ke se butsoe, ka 'mesa a butsoa.
Joale 'mutlanyana a tholoa ke motau moholo. Eaba o re ho
eena: Ntate moholo, ke u lemose kamoo u ka bolaeang nama e
ngata kateng ? Motau moholo a re : E. Eaba o re : A re cheke
sekoti. Ba se cheka ka sakeng, ba cheka haholo. Eaba o re :
Ntate moholo, kena ka teng, u ichoese ka har'a sona, ebe u hla-
hisa meno kantle. Motau moholo a etsa joaio. 'Mutlanyana a
ema holim'a lesaka, a nka phala, are :

Pii, pii, liphoofolo tsohle, tlong le bone,
Meno a melile, a melile fatše.

Liphoofolo tsa utloa, tsa tla li matha. A re : Kenang ka sa-
keng kaofela, ho se ke ha e-ba ea salang kantle. Tsa kena ka-
ofela ; qetellong ha fihla tšoene e pepile ngoana. Ea fihla,
ea nka lehlokoa, eaba e hlaba motau moholo ka sebonong ; joa-
le sa flnyela. Tšoene eaba e re :

Ngoan'a ngoan'a ke, tlo ke u pepe,

Mona ke mofu mofinyetsa pere.

the hare reads so :

All you animals, come and see, Liphoofolo tsohle, tlong le bone,

Great Lion is dead, Motau moholo o shoele,

We shall eat and live in peace. Rea ja, re iketla-ketla.

1 6 FOLK-TALES

So the baboon went away with her little one on her back.
Now little hare said to the animals : Come, let us shut the kraal.
They shut the gate, they closed it with stones. When they had
finished closing it, little hare said : Grandfather, arise. Great
Lion arose. They killed all those animals and flayed them.

II
THE LITTLE HARE1

They say that when little hare was going on, he heard some
frogs. Little hare heard them croaking. He said : Oh ! what a
fine song. He went near, the little hare. Then he said to one
of the frogs : Play your flute, please. The frog played on her
flute, she played, she played. Then little hare said : Lend it
to me. The frog answered : No, this flute of mine never parts
from me. He said : Oh! my friend, I pray you, lend it me. The
frog refused ; little hare went away.

After he had gone, he came back. He found that the frog
had come out of the water and was asleep. Now he took some
nicotine. Now the frog was asleep. He stopped her so that she
could no more pass water nor go to stool. Then he took the
flutes of the frog, and went away with them. The frog arose
then and said : Where are my flutes ? She looked for them,
looked for them, but could not find them. Now she heard little
hare playing on them. She cried : Alas ! little hare has killed
me ; he wanted to take my flutes, and now I am unable to pass
water and go to stool. She went in search of somebody who
could cure her; nobody could. Then the frog died.2

1 The references to this story have already been given in the first note to the
preceding tale. A Gazaland story (Revue des Trad. pop. 1895, p. 379) is in its
second part exactly similar to the second part of this, telling in the same way
how the hare killed the lion, went into its skin, and succeeded in killing the
hyenas.

2 In other Ba-Suto versions (cf. A. SEKESE, Mekhoa ea ba-Sotho, p. 215) the
frog takes the flutes of little hare and dives with them under the water ; it is
thus the end, not as here the beginning, of the story. In the version given by
Schrumpf (Zeitschrift der Deutschen morgenlaendischen Gesellschaft, 1862, p. 473)

The Little Hare 17

Eaba tšoene ea tsamaea e nkile ngoana oa eona. Joale 'mu-
tlanyana a re ho liphoofolo : Tlong, re koalleng. Tsa koala
monyako, tsa koalla ka majoe. Hoba li koale, li qete, 'mutla-
nyana a re : Ntate moholo, tsoha. Motau moholo a tsoha ; ba
bolaea liphoofolo tsena kaofela, ba li bua.

II
'MUTLANYANA

Ho thoe 'mutlanyana o na a tsamaea, joale a utloa lihohoana.
Joale he 'mutlanyana a utloa ha li ntse li 11a. Joale he a re :
Khele, a meloli e metle ! Joale he a ea, 'mutlanyana. Joale a
re ho sehohoana se seng : Ak'u letse phala ea hao. Joale he
sehohoana sa letsa, sa letsa. Joale 'mutlanyana a re : Ak'u
nkalime. Joale sehohoana sa re : En-en, phala ena ea ka ha e
ke e tloha ho 'na. A re : Oee, mokan'a ka, kea u rapela, nka-
lime. Sehohoana sa hana ; 'mutlanyana a ea.

Joale he a ea, a khutla. Joale a fumana sehohoana se tsoetse
kantle, se robetse* Joale a ntsa bokoali. Joale sehohoana se
robetse ; joale he a se thiba, hore se se ke sa rota, se se ke sa
nya. Joale a lokolla liphala tsa sehohoana, a ea le tsona.
Joale sehohoana sa tsoha, sa re : Phala tsa ka li kae ? Sa batla,
sa batla, sa li hloka. Joale he sa utloa li se li letsoa ke 'mu-
tlanyana. Joale sa re: Jo! 'mutlanyana o mpolaile, o ntseki-
sitse liphala tsa ka ; ke sitoa ho rota le ho nya. Joale sa
batla ba ka se phekolang ; ba hlōloa. Joale sehohoana sa
e-shoa.

the frog goes away with the flutes made by the hare out of the bones of the
rabbit ; it is out of vengeance that he treats it in the way described here. In the
Zulu tale Uhlakany ana's flute (CALLAWAY, op. cit. pp. 21 and 36) is stolen by
an iguana which he kills in revenge. In the Kaffir tale (THEAL, op. cit. p. 104)
it is Hlakanyana which steals the iguana's flute. In the Ronga folklore (JUNOD,
op. cit. p. 93) the hippopotamus goes away with the hare's, or (ibid. p. 114) the
frog's flutes. In a Zambezi tale (JACOTTET, Textes Louyi, p. 27) the hare suc-
ceeds, but by other means, in appropriating the drum of the tortoise.

18 FOLK-TALES

Now when he was still going on, little hare met with the
rabbit. The rabbit was playing on flutes which made a very
nice sound. Little hare said : Lend me your flutes, please. I
would like to play on your flutes. The rabbit played on his
flutes. Little hare exclaimed : How nicely your flutes do sound.
The rabbit said : This one is even better. Little hare said : Play
on it. He played on it. Now little hare said : Take these of
mine and give me yours, that I may learn to play on them. The
rabbit answered : No, mine are mine, yours are yours. Little
hare went away very sad.

He tried to devise some cunning, and said : What shall I do
in order that these flutes may become mine ? He went back to the
rabbit, and said : Do you know what we must do in order that
we shall not die? The rabbit said : No, I do not know. — Let us
dig a hole. They dug a hole, not a deep one. — Now let us
kindle a fire over it. The rabbit consented. They dug a hole
and made a fire in it.

When the fire was burning, little hare said: Rabbit, take me
and throw me into the fire ; as soon as I say : Ichi ! ichi ! rabbit,
I am burning ! take me out. When the fire was burning, the
rabbit took little hare, and threw him into the fire. Little hare
cried : Ichi ! ichi ! I am burning ! Ichi ! ichi ! I am burning ! The
rabbit took him out. Little hare then said : Now I am going to
throw you in; the rabbit consented. When the fire was burning,
he threw the rabbit in. The rabbit cried : Ichi ! ichi ! I am
burning! Ichi! ichi! I am burning! He took him out. They
laughed, both of them. Then little hare said : Now you throw
me in. The rabbit threw little hare into the fire. Little hare
cried : Ichi ! ichi ! I am burning ! The rabbit took him out. They
laughed. Now he said : Well now, I am going to throw you in,
rabbit. The rabbit said : Yes. Little hare took the rabbit and
threw him in. The rabbit cried: Ichi! ichi! I am burning!
ichi ! ichi ! I am burning ! ichi ! ichi ! I am burning ! Little hare
laughed; he left the rabbit in the fire till he was dead.

The flutes are now there : he took them, played on them, and
sang \l

Pii ! the rabbit is a little boy, pii !

He burned me, but I was not roasted, pii !

I was as a hard berry which cannot be cooked, pii !

I Schrumpf (loc. cit. p. 472) and Casalis (Les Bassoutos p. 368) give a littte
differently the song of the hare. In Casalis' version it reads thus :

The Little Hare 1 9

Joale he ha a ntse a tsamaea, 'mutlanyana a khahlana le
hlolo, hlolo a lelisa liphala tse Hang hamonate. Joale 'mutla-
nyana a re: Ak'u nkalime liphala tsa hao; ke rata hobane u ke
u letse liphala tsa hao. Joale hlolo a letsa liphala. Joale 'mu-
tlanyana a re : A phala tsa hao tse Hang hamonate ! Joale hlolo
a re: Li fetoa ke ena. Joale a re: Ak'u e letse. Joale a e le-
tsa. Joale 'mutlanyana a re : Ak'u nke tsena tsa ka, ke nke
tsena tsa hao, ke ithute tsa hao. Joale he hlolo a re : Che, tsa
ka ke tsa ka, tsa hao ke tsa hao. Joale a khutla a soabile,
'mutlanyana.

Joale a batla bohlale, a re : Na phala tsena ha e tla ba tsa ka,
nka etsa joang ? Joale he a boea ho hlolo, a re : Na ua tseba
kamoo re ke keng ra shoa ? Joale hlolo a re : Che, ha ke tsebe.
— Ha re cheke mokoti. Joale ba cheka mokoti, empa o sa
- tebe. — Joale he re tie re bese mollo holim'a oona. Joale hlolo
a lumela. Joale ba cheka mokoti, ba o besa.

Joale ha mollo o tuka, a re : Hlolo, nkuke, u nkakhele mollong ;
etlere ha ke re : Ichi ! ichi ! hloho, ka cha, u ntšole. Joale mollo
ha o tuka, a nka 'mutlanyana, a mo akhela mollong, joale 'mutla-
nyana a re : Ichi ! ichi ! ka cha ; ichi ! ichi ! ka cha. Hlolo a
mo ntša. Joale a re : Joale ke tla akhela uena. Joale he hlolo
a lumela. Joale ha o tuka mollo, a akhela hlolo. Joale hlolo
a re : Ichi ! ichi ! ka cha ; ichi ! ichi ! ka cha. A mo tšola.
Joale ba tšeha ba babeli. Joale 'mutlanyana a re : Joale u tie u
akhele 'na. Joale hlolo a akhela 'mutlanyana. Joale 'mutlanya-
na a re : Ichi ! ichi ! ka cha. A mo tšola. Joale ba tseha he.
Joale a re : Joale ke tla akhela uena, hlolo. Hlolo a re : E.
Joale 'mutlanyana a nka hlolo, a mo akhela. Joale hlolo a re :
Ichi ! ichi ! ka cha ; ichi ! ichi ! ka cha. 'Mutlanyana a tšeha ;
joale he a lesa hlolo, a cha.

Joale he liphala li mona, a li nka, a li letsa, a re :

Pii! hlolo ke moshanyana, pii!
A mpesa, ke se butsoe, pii !
Ka retela sa tholoana, pii !

Tu, tu, little flutes of the rabbits, Tu, tu, phalana tsa bo-hlolo,

Tu, tu, the rabbit is a little boy; Tu, tu, hlolo ke moshemane,

Tu, tu, the hare is a little man, Tu, tu, 'mutla ke monnana,

Tu, tu, he burned me, I was not roas- Tu, tu, a mpesa ke se butsoe,

fed

Tu, tu, I burned him, he was roasted. Tu, tu, ka 'mesa a butsoa.

20 FOLK-TALES

I burned him, he was roasted, pii !

The rabbit is a little boy, pii !

The rabbit is a fool, pii !
Now the rabbit was burned. Little hare left, went on, and
arrived at the lion's. Now the lion received little hare, and
said : Ha ! it is very well ; I have built a hut, but I have nobody
to help me to thatch it. So they began to thatch the hut. The
lion was working above, little hare was working down below.
When they had thatched for a while, they left and went to eat.
Little hare was given lean meat, the lion himself was eating
the fat meat. Now little hare said in his heart : I am* tired of
this lean meat, he gives me only lean meat. So he asked, say-
ing : Grandfatner, give me souie fat meat. The lion said : You
are a naughty little boy ; you want to eat the food that I eat. It
is I who kill lean and fat meat.

They went on thatching. One day, as he had already devised
some cunning, he made the tail of the lion fast in the thatching ;
the lion cried : Ichi ! little hare. He answered : It is only this
stick which wounded you, grandfather. He broke it. He put
medicine on the tail ; the pain disappeared. They went on
thatching. He again made fast the tail of the lion ; the lion
cried : Ichi ! little hare. He answered : It is only this stick
which hurt you- grandfather ; I have broken it. When little
hare saw that he had now fastened the tail of the lion strongly,
he said : I go to drink.1

Now he went down into the hut, took the food of the lion, sat
down there, and began to eat. The lion said : Little hare, you
eat my food. Little hare was silent, and went on eating. The
lion said : When I come down, I shall beat you. Now when he
tried to go down, he found that he was strongly fastened. Now
little hare stayed there ; he went on eating the meat of the lion
to his face. The lion roared, roared ; little hare went on eating.
Then little hare said : Let a big hailstorm come. Now the big
hailstorm came on ; it was very strong, and killed the lion on
the hut.2

Now little hare went on staying in the hut for many days, and
eating the meat killed by the lion. There were heaps of it. Now

I In other variants the episode of the thatching of the hut and the death of
the lion follows directly the story of the feigned death of the lion, which was
given in no. I (so A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 213). — In the Gazaland tale the story
is exactly the same, even in its details as e. g. the hailstorm wliick kills the
lion.

In the Zulu tale Uhlakanyana plays the same trick to a cannibal (CALLAWAY,
op. cit. p. 29) ; so does in Kaffir folklore Hlakanyana to a hyena (THEAL, op. cit

The Little Hare 21

Ka 'mesa, a butsoa, pii !

Hlolo ke moshanyana, pii !

Hlolo ke leoatla, pii !
Joale he hlolo o chele ; a tsamaea, a ea, a kena ha tau. Joale
tau ea mo thola 'mutlanyana, a re : Q ! ke hantle haholo ; ke
hahile ntlo. Joale kea sitoa na ke e rulela le mang. Joale ba
qala ho rulela ntlo. Joale tau ea e-ba kaholimo, joale 'mutla-
nyana a ba ka mona, katlase. Joale he ha ba baletse, ba tloha,
ba ea lijong. Joale 'mutlanyana a neoe nama tse otileng ; joale
tau e je tse nonneng. Joale 'mutlanyana a re pelong : Nama
tsena tse otileng lia nkhathatsa, o mpha nama tse otileng. Joale
mohlamong a qele, a re : Ntate moholo, ak'u mphe nama tse
nonneng. Joale tau e re : U moshanyana a sa utloeng, u rata
ho ja lijo tseo ke li jang; ke 'na ke bolaeang tse nonneng le
tse otileng.

"joale he ba ntse ba balla. Mohlamong, hobane kajeno o ba-
tlile bohlale, joale a ballele tau mohatla. Joale tau e re : Ichi !
'mutlanyana. Joale a re : Ke thupa eno e u hlabang, ntate
moholo ; a e robe. Joale a phekole mohatla, bohloko bo khutse.
Joale he ba ntse ba balla. Joale a ballele tau mohatla. Joale
tau e re . Ichi ! 'mutlanyana. A re : Ke thupa eno e u hlabang,
nlate moholo, ke e robiie. Joale ha a se a bona hoba ke o ba-
lletse haholo mohatla, ke o qetile, joale 'mutlanyana a re : Ke
sa noa.

Joale a theohele ka tlung, a nke lijo tsa tau, a rule mona ; oa
li ja. Joale tau e re : 'Mutlanyana, u ja lijo tsa ka. Joale 'mu-
tlanyana oa khutsa, o nts'a e-ja. A re : Ha ke theoha, ke tla u
laea. Joale a leka hore oa theoha, a fumana a se a balletsoe
haholo. Joale he ho ituletsoe he ke 'mutlanyana; joale hoa
jeoa nama tsa tau pontseng ho eena. Joale oa puruma, oa pu-
ruma ; hoa jeoa. Joale he 'mutlanyana a re : Ho boee se linaka
sefako. Joale se boee se linaka; joale he se ne haholo, se
bolaee tau ka holimo ho ntlo.

Joale he ho ntso ho lutsoe ka tlung ka litsiu tsohle, ho jeoa
linama tse bolailoeng ke tau ; li ngata. Joale mohlamong ho

p. 103). In some Zambezi tales (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, pp. 5 and 23 ; Textes
Louyi, p. 18) the hare contrives in the same way to fasten to a strong root the
tail of the lion or of the monkey.

2 The version given by A. Sekese (op. cit. p. 214) is the same as here for the
episodes of little hare in the lion's skin and his sojourn among the hyenas. Tne
only parallel known to me in African folklore is to be found in the Gazaland tale
referred to above.

22 FOLK-TALES

on a certain day when he was sitting in the hut and eating, the
wind arose, and as the tail of the lion was already dry, the
wind blew away the lion's skin : pupuru ! pupuru ! Little hare
was frightened : Oh ! it is only my grandfather. He looked, he
looked; he said : Oh! grandfather is already dry, the moths
have eaten his flesh. Now he dressed the skin, opened the jawsr
made them fast by a stick ; then he entered into the lion's skin.
Now when friend hare saw that the food was finished, he asked :
Where shall I eat now ? So friend hare went away in the lion's
skin. He said : I go to another country.

He went to the big tribe of the hyenas. When the hyenas
saw him, they were frightened and said : It is that dreadful ani-
mal. Little hare arrived at the big hut of the chief of the
hyenas. He sat down with the owners of the hut. The hyenas
were afraid and said : Oh ! to-day he will eat us. Now the pot
was boiling. When the water was running over, little hare
said: Hyena, stir the water with your buttocks.1 A hyena stirred
it with its buttocks; it died. Little hare went thus into all the
courtyards of the hyenas, saying: Hyena, stir the water with
your buttocks ; hyena, stir the water with your buttocks. When
the hyenas stirred the water so, they were burned and died. The
hyenas died thus in great numbers. Only the women were left.

One day when the people were gone to the gardens, a little
girl was sitting in a corner between the hut and the reed enclos-
ure. Little hare went out from the hut, left the lion's skin, and
played about, springing and singing: lam the little hare, the
conqueror of the big hyenas. The little girl said : Pe ! it is this
little animal which has killed our fathers ! Now the wind made
some noise, and little hare re-entered the skin in haste. The
little girl said: Oh! only a little animal has killed our fathers.

The little girl went away. When the working companies
came home, she said : Father, the tribes of the hyenas are des-
troyed ; you may see that it is only a little animal that went
into the lion's skin, and we thought it was a lion ! Her father
said : What ! you little girl ; it is a story you tell me. She
answered : No, father, it is a little animal ; I saw it. The father
scolded the child. He went to another man and said : Hear !
my child has told me astonishing news. — What does she say ?
— She says that the animal which is destroying us is only a tiny
little animal ; but I do not believe it ; I say it is really a lion.
That man said : Well ! where does she say she was when she

I The original Se-Suto text being rather crude has had to be somewhat
changed.

The Little Hare 23

lutsoe ka thing, ho ntso ho jeoa, joale ho foke moea ; joale ka-
hobane mohatla o so o omeletse, moea oa tlosa lekoko la tau :
pupuru ! pupuru ! Ho thoe : Khili ! athe ke ntate moholo. Joale
ho talimuoe, ho talimuoe, ho thoe : Ntate moholo o se a omele-
tse, tšoele e jele linama ka teng. Joale he ebe oa qalapisoa, oa
ahlamolloa, joale ho hlongoa thnpa ka hanong ho tau. Joale
he monghali oa bona hoba lijo tsena lia fela. — Ke ea ja ho-
kae ? Joale ho tsamauoa ka lekoko la tau, monghali a le kaha-
fe. Joale ho thoe : Ke tla ea jaka.

Joale ho uoe sechabeng se seholo sa liphiri. Joale liphiri ha
li bona, li tšabe, li re : Ke ena ntho e tsabehang. Joale ho
fihleloe ntlo e kholo ea morena oa liphiri. Joale he ho luloe le
beng ba ntlo. Joale he liphiri li tšohile, li re : Khele ! kajeno
re tla jeoa. Joale he pitsa e bele. Joale ho thoe ha e tsoa :
Phiri, phoka pitsa ka libono. Joale he phiri e phoke, joale phiri
ebe ea shoa. Joale ho tsamauoe le liotloana tsa liphiri, ho thoe :
Phiri, phoka ka libono ; phiri, phoka ka libono. Joala phiri ha
e phoka e che, ebe ea shoa. Joale liphiri li shoe li le ngata.
Joale ho ntso ho siuoa basali.

Joale ho no ho uoe masimong ; joale he ngoanana motšeare
a lule sekhutloaneng sa ntlo le seotloana ; joale ho tsuoe, joale
ebe ho tsuoa lekokong, ho ntso ho bapaloa mona, ho tlōloa, ho
thoe : Ke 'mutlanyan'a sefenya phiri tse kholo ! Joale ngoanana
a re : Pee ! nthoanyana e ne e bolaile bo-ntate ke eona ee ! Joale
ere ha moea o re khoahla ! ho thoe lekokong cheche ! Joale he
ngoanana a re : Oo! nthoanyana e nyenyane e bolaile bo-ntate.

A tloha ngoanana. Ha matsema a fihla, ebe o re : Ntate,
sechaba sa liphiri se bile se felile ; u ka bona nthoanyana e
kene ka lekokong, re itse re re ke tau. Ntafae a re : Khele !
ngoanana tooe, ha u na taba ee u re bolellang. A re : Che bo !
ntate, ke nthoanyana e nyenyane, ke e bone. Joale ntat'ae a
nyatsa ngoana enoa ; joale a ee ho monna e mong, a re : Hela I
ngoana o ntlholetse. — O re'ng ? — O re, ntho e ne e ntse e re
bolaea e nyenyane ; joale 'na kea hana, ke re ke tau ka sebele-
bele. Joale he monna enoa a re : Oee ! o re o e bone a lutse
kae ? Joale o re : Ngoana o re, o na a lutse sekhutloaneng sa
ntlo le seotloana. Joale monna enoa a joetsoang a re : Ho ka

24 FOLK-TALES

saw it ? He"answered : The child says she was sitting in the
corner between the hut and the reed enclosure. Now the man
who was spoken to said : To-morrow we must hide ourselves,
both of us, and see the things which your child has seen.

Now the two men hid themselves where the child had been
sitting. They heard a noise : Khohlo ! k.hohlo ! Little hare
went out of the skin. It was already midday. He sat down in
the court before the hut and said : I am little hare, the conqueror
of the big hyenas. He went on praising himself. The two man
said : Why ! the girl told us the truth, and we refused to believe
it. They went away glad, and said : Alas ! it is such a tiny
little animal that has destroyed the tribe of the hyenas ! In the
evening they told the other men : We have been destroyed by a
mere nobody ; a tiny little animal went into the skin, and we
thought it was a lion.

Now in the evening when the food was being cooked, little
hare had gone again into his skin, and said : Hyena, stir the
water with your buttocks. The hyenas looked at each other.
One of them took one of the stones of the hearth, and threw it
at the skin. Little hare went out of the skin and ran away,
leaving the skin empty. Now the hyenas raised a hue and cry,
and ran after little hare.

Little hare ran away quickly ; he ran into a hole, cut his ears, 1
and began to grind corn. The hyenas arrived, and said : Have
you not seen little hare passing here? He answered : No, I have
not seen him; how could I see him, having my ears so badly
cut ? They asked each other : Where has he gone, where has he
gone ? They did not know it was he. They pursued him, pursued
him, but could not find him. They came back and asked him
again : Did you not see him pass here running? He said : No,
I have not seen him. All the tribe of the hyenas had been
pursuing him. They said : This is another one, he does not
know anything. Whereas it was he. Now the hyenas returned
home, saying : Why ! we have been destroyed by a tiny little
animal of no importance whatever.

Now this is the end of the tale.

i In Casalis' version (Ees Bassoutos p. 369) this incident is also related, and
the story finishes exactly as ours.

The Little Hare 2$

khona hosasane re ke re ipate ba babeli, re e'o bona taba tsena
ngoan'a oa hao a li boneng.

Joale banna ba babeli ba ipate hona moo ngoana a ba a lutse
teng. Joale ba utloe : khohlo ! khohlo ! Hoa tsuoa joale, ke
motseare. Joale he ho luloe mona lapeng, ho thoe : Ke 'mu-
tlanyan'a sefenya phiri tse kholo; hoa ithorisoa. Joale banna
ba babeli ba re : Ichi ! ha ngoana a re bolella taba tsa sebele,
re hanne. Joale he ba tlohe ba thabile, ba re: Khele ! sechaba
sa liphiri se se se felile ke nthoanyane e kale! Joale he mantsi-
boea ba bolelle banna ba bang : Re bolailoe ke lefeela ; ntho-
anyana e nyenyane e ikentse lekokong, re itse re re ke tau.

Joale he mantsiboea, ha ho so ho apehiloe, joale o kene ka
lekokong, ho thoe : Phiri, phoka ka libono. Phiri li talimane.
Mbtho a nke letšeo, a pitle lekoko lena. 'Mutlanyana oa bale-
ha, o tsoa lekokong, lekoko le sala le lutse. Joale liphiri li
hlabe mokhosi kahohle ho lelekisa 'mutlanyana.

'Mutlanyana oa ichakha ; ere ha a re like sekoting, a ipo-
me litsebe, a be a se a sila. Ba fihla, ba re : Na ha ua ka ua
bona 'mutlanyana moo a feta mona ? Joale a re : Che, ha kea
ka ka 'mona; oo ! hka be ke 'mone ka'ng ke le tsejanali mahi-
na-hina. Joale ba re : Na o fetile kae ? na o fetile kae ? athe ke
eena. Li phalle, li phalie, li mo hloke. Joale li fete, li 'muise,
li re : Ha ua ka ua 'mona a tlang a titima ? A re : Che, ha kea
ka ka 'mona; hoba sechaba sa liphiri se phaletse kaofela. Joale
ba re : Enoa ke osele, ha a tsebe letho ; athe ke eena. Joale
liphiri lia khutla, li boela mahae, li re : Khele ! a re qetoa ke
nthoanyana e sa bonahaleng.2

Joale he ke tšomo ka mathetha.

2 Instead of mathetha, the form mathetha is generally used.

26 FOLK-TALES

III
THE MPHOTANYANE

Once when little hare was dressing a skin in a cave, he heard
something which fell with a sudden noise ; all the animals
dropped down dead ; there only remained a crooked stick !2
Then little hare ran away. He met with the rabbit. The rabbit
asked him : What is the matter, little hare ? He said : I have
heard something which fell with a sudden noise ; all the animals
dropped down dead ; there only remained a crooked stick. They
ran away together, and met with a springbuck. The spring-
buck asked : What is the matter, rabbit ? The rabbit answered :
You ask me ? Why do you not ask little hare ? Little hare said :
I have heard something which fell with a sudden noise ; all the
animals dropped down dead ; there only remained a crooked
stick ! All three ran away.3

They arrived at an abandoned village, went into the cattle
kraal, and slept there. Next morning when they went to pas-
ture, they dunged. In the afternoon when they returned, they
ate it and made some more. Then they slept. In the morning
they ate that, and made some more. Then they went to pasture.
The Mphotanyane came down, entered the kraal, and ate all
their dung. He finished it all. In the evening when they
returned, they wondered. They made some more, and went to
sleep. Next morning they ate that, and made some more.

They said that the springbuck should keep watch. The

1 In a Ba-Suto version given by A. Sekcse (op. cit. p. 209) the animal which
eats the dung of the others is called Pinyanc (in Se-Suto pinyane means a theft
or any crime which has been kept secret). In a Gazaland tale (Revue des Trad,
pop. 1895, p. 379) we have an exact parallel to our story; the one which eats the
dung is called there nkida-bulongo (the one which gathers dung ; it is the Ronga
equivalent to Se-Suto kholabolokoe, the name given to the sacred beetle, scarabacus
sacer). In both these tales the first part of our story (the fright of the animals
at a mere noise) is wanting; but both are followed by some of the stories of the
hare already seen. Another close parallel is a Kaffir story (THEAL, op. cit. p. 168)
where fat, not dung, is watched by the animals and eaten by a fabulous animal,
the inkalimeva; it is also the beginning of the story of little hare's adventures.

2 My informant could not explain to me what was meant by that crooked stick.

The Mphotanyane 27

III
MPHOTANYANE

Ba re e ne e re e le 'mutlanyana a nts'a suha lekokoana ka
lehahaneng, a utloa selo se re thi ! Maphoofolo a e-shoa kao-
fela, ha sala molamu oa khoropjoana. Eaba 'mutlanyana oa
baleha. A khahlana le hlolo. Hlolo ea re : Ke'ng, 'mutlanya-
na ? A re : Ke utloile selo re thi ! maphoofolo a e-shoa kaofela,
ha sala molamu oa khoropjoana. Tsa baleha tse peli. Tsa
kopana le tšephe. Tšephe ea re : Ke'ng, hlolo ? A re : U botsa
'na ? ha u botse 'mutlanyana ? Ea re : Ke'ng, 'mutlanyana ? A
r$: Ke utloile selo se re thi ! maphoofolo a e-shoa kaofela, ha
sala molamu oa khoropjoana. Tsa matha tse tharo.

Tsa fihla lithakong, tsa kena ka sakeng, tsa robala teng. E-
itse hosasane ha li aloha, tsa nyela. Eitse mantsiboea ha li
fihla, tsa fihla, tsa a ja. Tsa boela tsa nyela a mang a macha.
Eaba lia robala. Eitse hosasane tsa a ja. Tsa nyela a mang.
Eaba lia aloha. Ha theoha mphotanyane, a kena ka sakeng, a
a ja kaofela masepa a tsona. Eitse mantsiboea ha li fihla, tsa
makala. Eaba lia nyela, lia robala. Eitse hosasane tsa a ja,
tsa nyela a mang.

Tsa re ho lebele tšephe, 'me tšephe ea lebela. A theoha

It may perhaps mean that it was simply a branch fallen from a tree which so
frightened little hare, but as the Se-Suto word molamu means a walking stick,
this explanation is not very probable. In the Ronga tale referred to in the next
footnote, it is a fruit called the sala which, in falling, frightens the hare and the
antelope.

3 The first part of this tale is told in nearly the same way by the Ba-Ronga
{JUNOD, op. cit. p. 98) ; there it is followed by the story of the tree of the
animals, which is so far unkown to me in Basutoland, though it is found among
the Transvaal Ba-Suto (cf. JACOTTET, Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p. 45). Cf. also
an episode of the same kind in a tale from Togoland on the Gold Coast
(Zeitschrift fiir afrik unci ocean. Spr. VI. p. 127).

28 FOLK-TALES

springbuck remained to watch. The Mphotanyane came down,
sa3ring ::

I am the Mphotanyane, I am the Mphotanyane,

I have come to eat the dung,

The dung of the zebra, of the zabra and the gnu,

I am the Mphotanyane.
He came down, arrived, entered the kraal, and ate some of
the dung. The springbuck jumped up suddenly, approached,
and kicked him: The Mphotanyane beat the springbuck
cruelly. The springbuck pretended to be dead. The Mpho-
tanyane ate the dung. When he had finished, he blew into the
anus of the springbuck, thinking that some dung might come out,
but none came. He went back to his place.2

When the others arrived, they found that all the dung was
gone. They asked the springbuck. The springbuck said : It is the
Mphotanyane. They made some dung and went to sleep. Next
morning they arose, ate their dung, and made some more. They
said the rabbit should keep watch. If they found the dung
gone, they would kill him. The rabbit remained to watch. The
Mphotanyane came down from the mountain, saying:

I am the Mphotanyane, I am the Mphotanyane,

I have come to eat the dung,

The dung of the zebra, of the zebra and the gnu,

I am the Mphotanyane.
He arrived, entered the kraal, and ate some of the clung. The
rabbit jumped up suddenly and kicked the Mphotanyane. The
Mphotanyane beat the rabbit cruelly. The rabbit pretended to
be dead. Now the Mphotanyane ate the clung. When he had
finished, he blew into the anus of the rabbit, thinking that some
dung might come out, but none came. Then the rabbit cried till
the others arrived.

They arrived and questioned him. He said : It is the Mpho-
tanyane, he is on the mountain yonder. They did not do
anything to the rabbit. They made some dung and went to
sleep. Next morning they arose and ate their dung. That day
it was the chief, little hare, who had to keep watch. He said :
Bring me some hair. They found and brought it to him. He

In A. Sekese's version the song is as follows :

Animals, animals! Linyamatsane, linyamatsane!

The dung has gone, Bolokoc bo He,

Animals, animals! Linyamatsane* linyamatsane!

It has been taken by Pinyane, Bo kukiloc ke Pinyanc,

Animals, animals! Linyamatsane, linyamatsane !

By Pmyane the dung eater, Pinyane 'a se-ja-bolokoe,

Animals, animals! Linyamatsane, linyamatsane!

The Mphotanyane 29

mphotanyane, a re :

Ke mphotanyane, ke mphotanyane,

Ke tlile ho ja malokoe,

Malokoe ka pitsi, ka pitsi le khokong,

Ke mphotanyane.
Eaba oa theoha, o flhla a kena ; a fihla, a ja a mang. Tšephe
ea rutloloha, ea fihla ea mo otla. Eaba mphotanyane o robo-
kela tsephe. Joale eaba tšephe ea ichoesa. Eaba oa ja. Ha
a qetile, eaba o bulula tsephe ka sebonong, a re ekaba ho tla
tsoa malokoe, a se ke a tsoa. Eaba o ipoella hae ha hae.

Eitse ha li fihla, tsa fumana ho se ho se letho. Tsa botsa
tsephe ; tsephe ea re : Ke mphotanyane. Eaba lia nyela, lia
robala. Hosasane tsa tsoha, tsa a ja, tsa nyela a macha. Ha
thoe ho lebele hlolo ; ha li ka fumana a le sieo, o tla bolaoa.

Hlolo a lebela. Mphotanyane a theoha thabeng, a bina, a re :

Ke mphotanyane, ke mphotanyane,

Ke tlile ho ja malokoe,

Malokoe ka pitsi, ka pitsi le khokong,

Ke mphotanyane.
Joale a fihla, a kena, a fihla, a ja a mang. Hlolo ea rutlolo-
ha, ea otla mphotanyane. Mphotanyane a robokela hlolo ;
eaba hlolo ea ichoesa. Eaba mphotanyane oa a ja. Eitse ha
a qetile, a bulula hlolo ka sebonong, a re ekaba ho tla tsoa bokha-
kha, empa ba se ke ba tsoa. Eaba hlolo ea 11a, ho fihlela tse
ling li ba li fihla.

Tsa fihla, tsa e botsa ; ea re : Ke mphotanyane, ke eane tha-
beng. Che, tsa se ke tsa e etsa letho. Eaba lia nyela, lia roba-
la. Hosasane tsa tsoha, tsa a ja, Ha thoe kajeno ho lebele
morena, 'mutlanyana. A re : Mpatleleng bolitse. Tsa bo ba-
tla, tsa mo nea bona. Eaba o sala a ohla likhoele. Mpho-
tanyane a theoha, a tla a bina :

2 In A. Sekcse 's version the animal which should watch gets sleepy, and in
this way Pinyane is able to eat the dung. In the Gazaland tale the nhila-bulonga
contrives to put the animals to sleep in hunting for their lice. In the Kaffir
story the inkaUmeva uses different tricks with the different watchers to catch
them napping.

30 FOLK-TALES

remained and spun some strings. The Mphotanyane came
down saying :

I am the Mphotanyane, I am the Mphotanyane,

I have come to eat the dung,

The dung of the zebra, of the zebra and the gnu,

I am the Mphotanyane.
He arrived and entered the kraal. Just as he was entering the
gate, little hare said : Oh ! man, come here, and let us teach one
another medicine. The Mphotanyane came running. When
he had arrived, little hare said : Bind my neck with this string.
When I say : Ichi ! loosen it. The Mphotanyane bound him
strongly. Little hare said : Ichi ! ichi ! Mphotanyane. The
Mphotanyane loosened the string. Then he bound the Mphota-
nyane. When he tried to say : Ichi ! ichi ! little hare ! little
hare bound him more strongly, till he died.1

Then little hare flayed the Mphotanyane, cooked him, took
the fat of the kidneys, and put it aside. When the meat was
well cooked, he put that fat on the fire. The smell called the
others from the veldt. They came running. When they had
nearly arrived, little hare took all the meat, ran away with it,
went up on a ledge, and ate it all. When he came down, they
pursued him; he ran away and left them behind.2

1 In the Kaffir tale the hare kills the inkalimcva in the same manner. In the
next story we shall find the jackal using a similar trick.

2 In A. Sekesc's version the hare keeps for himself and hides from the others

The Mphot any cine 3 1

Ke mphotanyane, ke mphotanyane,

Ke tlile ho ja malokoe,

Malokoe ka pitsi, ka pitsi le khokong,

Ke mphotanyane.
A fihla, a kena. Eitse ha a s'a hlaha monyako, 'mutlanyana
a re : He ! monna, re tl'o rutana bongaka, Mphotanyane a tla
a matha. Eitse ha a fihla 'mutlanyana a re : Ntlame ka khoele
ena molaleng ; etl'ere ha ke re : Ichi ! u ntokolle. 'Me mpho-
tanyane a mo tlama, a tiisa ; 'mutlanyana a re: Ichi! ichi!
mphotanyane. Mphotanyane a mo lokolla. A tlama mpho-
tanyane; o itse ka re: Ichi! ichi! 'mutlanyana, 'mutlanyana a
tiisa matla, a ba a shoa.

Eaba 'mutlanyana o bua mphotanyane, a mo pheha, a ntša
lefura la phio, a le boloka. Eitse ha e se e butsoitse, a le
kenya ifo, 'me lefotha la bitsa tse naheng. Tsa tla li phalletse.
Eitse ha li fihla, 'mutlanyana a nka linama, a baleha ka tsona,
a hloella mothating, a li ja, a li qeta. Eitse hoba a theohe,
tsa mo tebela ; a baleha, a li siea.

the tail of Pinyane, which causes them to drive him away. It was probably the
same in our tale, though my informant failed to mention it. In the Kaffir tale
the same incident is told in the same manner.

32 FOLK-TALES

IV
THE JACKAL l

Once all the animals had no water to drink. They found a
small fountain which had not yet been properly dug out. They
said : Let us all dig it, that we may be able to drink much water.
But the jackal refused to dig. Now when they had finished
digging, they said : Let us keep watch over it. Who will keep
watch so that the jackal shall not drink our water, since he
refused to dig? They said: Let the rabbit keep watch. As for
the jackal, he went to the mountain.

They went away from the fountain. When they were already
gone, the jackal came. He said to the rabbit : He ! rabbit ! he !
rabbit ! good morning. The rabbit answered : All right.2 The
jackal came, drew near; when he came near the rabbit at the
fountain, he took his bag out. He put his hand in the bag and
took honey. Then he said to the rabbit: Do you see? as for
me, I do not feel the thirst ; I eat something nice. He ate. The
rabbit said : Give me some, my friend. He gave him some, very
little. The rabbit said : Oh ! it is very nice. He said again :
Give me a lot, please, my friend. The jackal answered : No, if
you want me to give you a lot, you must let me bind your hands
behind your back, and then lie on your back, that I may be able
to pour it into your mouth. The rabbit lay on his back. When
he was lying so on his back, the jackal went to the fountain,
and drank the water over Avhich the rabbit was keeping watch.
After he had finished drinking he went away to the mountain.3

I This story seems to be very popular in South Africa. It is found in nearly
the same form on the Zambezi (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 34), at Delagoa
Bay (JUNOD, op. cit. p. 127), and in German East Africa among the Ba-Sumbwa,
in a tale contributed by Father A. Capus, cf. Zeitschrift fiir afrikdnische und ocea-
nitische Sprachcn, p. 364. In these three tales the hare plays the part attributed
here to the jackal. In Gazaland (Revue des Trad. pop. 1895, p. 384), Kaffir
(THEAL. op. cit. p. 174 note) and Hottentot ( Folk-Lore Journal, I. p. 6g) versions
of the same tale, the jackal takes, as in our story, the place of the hare. It is
very probable that in the Ba-Suto, Gazaland, Ronga and Kaffir tales the hare
was originally the hero of the story. The fact that this story is found as far as
the Zambezi, Delagoa Bay and German East Africa shows that it belongs also,
without any possible doubt, to the Bantu folklore, and has not been borrowed
from the Hottentots as I formerly suspected (cf. Contes pop, des Bassoutos, p. 28

Otecatdtd
Ynle Divine ^00'

The Jackal 33

IV
PHOKOJOE

E ne e re e le liphoofolo kaofela H hloka metsi moo li ka
noang teng. Tsa fumana selibanyana se e-so ho ka se ba se
fatoa. Eaba li re : Ha re fateng kaofela, re tie re tsebe ho
noa metsi a mangata. Eaba phokojoe e hana ho fata. Joale
eare ha li qeta bo fata, eaba li re : Ha ho lebeloe. Na ho tla le-
bela mang, phokojoe a tie a se ke a noa, hoba o ile a hana ho
fata ? Eaba li re : Ha ho lebele hlolo. Eaba phokojoe o ikela
thabeng.

Eaba lia tloha moo, selibeng. Ha li se li tlohile, phokojoe
a tla. Eaba o re ho hlolo : He hlolo-e, ! he hlolo-e ! lumela.
Eaba hlolo o re : E. Eaba phokojoe oa tla ; o fihla, a ntša
mokotlana, ha a fihla ho hlolo mona selibeng. Eaba o kenya
letsoho ka mokotlaneng, eaba o ntša linotši ; eaba o re ho hlolo :
Ua bona, 'na ha nke be ke nyoruoe; ke ja ntho e monate. Ea-
ba oa ja ; eaba hlolo o re: Ak'u mphe, mokan'a ka. Eaba o
mo fa hanyenyane. Eaba o re : Khele ! ke ntho e monate.
Eaba o re : Ak'u mphe haholo, mokan'a ka. Eaba phokojoe
o re: Che, ekare ke tla u fa haholo, ka u tlama matsoho,. ka a
isa kamorao, ua qethoha ka seetse, ke tie ke tsebe ho u tšollela
ka hanong. Joale a qethoha. Eitse ha a qethohile, phokojoe
a ea selibeng, a noa metsi a neng a lebetsoe ke hlolo. Joale ha
a qeta ho noa, a itsamaela, a ikela thabeng.

note). The substitution of the jackal for the hare as the most cunning animal
seems to take place in many parts of South Africa, probably through direct or
indirect Hottentot influence, but it may be questioned whether even among the
Hottentots the jackal has not been substituted for the hare by the influence of
the Dutch colonists.

2 A Mo-Suto when saluting says : Lumela, lit. rejoice. The person saluted
answers : E, yes (i. e. yes, I do rejoice).

3 In the Ronga, Subiya. and Hottentot versions the episode is exactly the
same as here — honey given to the animals if they will allow themselves to be
bound. In the Sumbwa version the hare succeeds in binding them by hunting
for their lice (cf. note on p. 29). In a Zambezi tale (JACOTTET, Textes Louyi,
p. 23) the hare succeeds in binding lions by a trick of the same kind; cf. also
MACDONALD, Africana, II. p. 353.

34 FOLK-TALES

The other animals arrived and said : Rabbit, what have you
done? The rabbit answered : It is the jackal, see him yonder on
the mountain ! He bound my hands saying he was going to
give me some nice drink, whereas he was deceiving me in order
to drink our water. They said : Rabbit, you are a fool to have let
the jackal drink the water, the jackal who refused to dig with us.
Then they said : Who will keep watch now ? It must be a cun-
ning one. Little hare said : I shall keep watch. So little hare
kept watch now. The others went away.

The jackal came when they had already gone and said: He!
little hare ! he ! little hare ! good morning. Little hare said : Good
morning. The jackal said : Give me some snuff. Little hare answer-
ed : I have none. The jackal came, drew near, and sat down near
little hare. He took out his little bag, and put his hand in it. He
took out some honey, and ate it saying: Mm! He said again:
Oh! I eat something very nice, little hare. Little hare asked :
What is it ? The jackal answered : I just moisten my little food
pipe. He said again : As for me, I never feel thirsty when I eat
this thing, little hare. He added : As for you all, little hare, I
believe that thirst is killing you. Little hare said : Let me taste
some, my friend. The jackal let him taste some, very little of
it. Then he said : No, no, little hare, if you want to taste it
well, let me bind your hands behind your back, and then lie
down on your back that I may be able to pour it down your
throat. Little hare said : Do so, please, my friend. So the
jackal bound his hands behind his back. He then went to the
fountain after having bound him, and drank the water. After
having drunk he went back to the mountain.

Now the other animals came back in numbers ; they said :
Little hare what have you done ? We thought that you were
cunning ; you said you would be able to keep watch ; you said
that if you kept watch the jackal would not drink our water. Now
where is our water? Now when we are so thirsty, where are we
going to get water ? Little hare answered : It is the jackal's
fault ; he came with a nice drink, saying he would give me
some ; he said that if I wanted him to give me much of it, he
had to bind my hands behind my back. They said : Who will
keep watch now ? The leopard said : Let the tortoise keep watch.
The tortoise kept watch. They went away to pasture.

Now the jackal arrived and found that the tortoise was
keeping watch. He said : He ! tortoise ! he ! tortoise ! good
morning. The tortoise was silent. He spoke again another
time : He ! tortoise ! he ! tortoise ! The tortoise was silent. The
jackal said : It is a fool who is keeping watch to-day ; I shall
draw near and kick it with my foot, and drink water. He came
near to the tortoise and said : Tortoise ! The tortoise was silent.
He pushed the tortoise aside to make it go away from the

The Jackal 35.

Joale tse ngata tsa fihla, tsa re : Hlolo, u entse joang ? Hlolo :
Hase phokojoe, hase eloa thabeng ? o ile a ntlama matsoho, a
re o tla mpha ntho e monate, athe oa nthetsa hore a noe metsL
Eaba li re : Hlolo u sethoto ha u tlohetse phokojoe a noa metsi,.
phokojoe a hanne ho fata. Joale tsa re : Ho ea lebela mang ea
bohlale ? Eaba 'mutlanyana o re : Ke 'na ea ea lebela. Eaba
'mutlanyana oa lebela joale. Eaba lia tsamaea.

Eaba phokojoe oa tla, ha li se li tsamaile, eaba o re : He
'mutlanyana-e ! he 'mutlanyana-e ! lumela. 'Mutlanyana a re :
E. A re : He, ntsubise kuae eo. Eaba 'mutlanyana o re : Ha
e eo. Joale eaba phokojoe oa tla, a fihla a lula fatse pel'a
'mutlanyana. Eaba o ntša mokotlana, eaba o kenya letsoho-
kahare, eaba o ntša linotši, eaba oa ja, o re : Mm ! Eaba o re :
Khele ! ke ja ntho e monate, 'mutlanyana. Eaba 'mutlanyana
o re : Na ke'ng ? Eaba phokojoe o re : Ke kolobisa liqhoqho-
qhoana. Eaba o re : 'Na ha nke be ke nyoruoe ha ke ja ntho
ena, 'mutlanyana. Eaba o re : Kea kholoa, lōna, 'mutlanyana,
le bolaoa ke lenyora. Eaba 'mutlanyana o re : Ak'u nkutloise
hie, mokan'a ka. Eaba phokojoe o mo utloisa hanyenyane.
Eaba o re : Che bo ! 'mutlanyana, ekare ha u tla utloa monate,
lea u tlama matsoho, ka a isa kamorao, ua qethoha ka seetse, ke
tie ke tsebe ho u tšollela ka hanong. Eaba 'mutlanyana o re :.
Ak'u nketse joalo, mokan'a ka. Eaba oa mo tlama, o mo isa
matsoho kamorao. Eaba joale phokojoe o ikela ka selibeng,
ha a se a mo tlamile, o ea noa metsi. Joale ha a se a noele, a
ikela thabeng.

Joale tsa fihla tse ling liphoofolo tse ngata. Tsa re : 'Mu-
tlanyana, u entse joang ? Re ne re itse u bohlale na ? ua re,
uena u tseba ho lebela ; ua re, uena ha u lebela, phokojoe a ke
ke a noa metsi. Joale metsi a kae ? Joale ha re nyoruoe haka-
le, re tla noa hokae ? Eaba 'mutlanyana o re : Ke phokojoe, o
ile a tla le ntho e monate, eaba o re, o mpha eona ; eaba o re,
ekare ha a tla mpha haholo, a ntlama matsoho, a a isa kamorao.
Eaba li re : Na joale ho tla lebela mang ? Eaba nkoe o re : Ha
ho lebele khulu. Eaba khulu oa lebela. Eaba lia tsamaea,
li aloha.

Eaba phokojoe oa tla, a fumana ho lebetse khulu. Eaba o
re : He ! he ! Khulu-e ! Eaba khulu oa thōla. Eaba o boetse oa
pheta, o re : He ! he ! khulu-e ! Eaba khulu oa thōla. Eaba
phokojoe o re : Ho lebetse sethoto kajeno, ke tla fihla ke mo
rahe ka leoto, ke noe metsi. Eaba o fihla ho khulu ; eaba o re :
Khulu ! Eaba khulu oa thōla. Eaba o sututsa khulu, hore a
tlohe pel'a seliba, a noe. Eaba o se a inamela selibeng, pho-
kojoe. Eitse hoja a re oa noa, khulu a mo tšoara ka leoto.

3b FOLK-TALES

fountain, so that he might drink. Then the jackal stooped over
the fountain. When he was going to drink, the tortoise caught
one of his feet. The jackal cried : Ichi ! ichi ! you break me.
The tortoise held him fast. The jackal took out his little bag
and tried to let the tortoise smell the honey. But the tortoise
looked aside, away from the little bag. The jackal vainly tried
to give him his honey, saying : It is yours. The tortoise refused
to take it and held him fast.1

Now the animals arrived. As they drew near, the jackal
wrenched himself from the tortoise and ran away. When the
animals arrived they said : All right, tortoise, you are a man ;
to-day we shall be able to drink water, as you have caught the
jackal, and hindered him from drinking our water.

V

THE JACKAL, THE DOVE, THE CRANE, AND THE

LEOPARD2

They say there was the jackal and the dove ; the dove had
hatched her eggs, she had three little ones. The jackal said :
Listen, dove, listen ! The dove said : What ? The jackal said :
Throw down or I will jump up. The dove threw down one of

I In the Subiya, Hottentot, and Gazaland stories the tortoise vanquishes the
hare or the jackal in the same way. In the Ronga version it is the frog. The
Sumbwa story does not relate this incident. In an Ila (north of the Zambezi)
tale the tortoise also catches the hare in exactly the same manner (cf. Smith,
Handbook of the Ila Language, p. 254).

The tortoise plays a rather important part in Bantu folklore ; cf. — besides
the different versions of our story — on the Zambezi JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya,
pp.7, 40, and 46; Textes Louyi, pp. 6 and 26; SMITH, op. cit. p. 1 16; among
the Kaffirs TORREND, Xosa-Kafir Grammar, p. 83, and THEAL, op. cit. p. 109 ; in
Gazaland Revue des Trad. pop. 1895, p. 390 ; in Bechuanaland, CRISP, The Be-
chuana of South Africa p. 29 and Sepeleta sa Secoana, p. 53 ; in North Transvaal
JACOTTET, Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p. 42 ; in Hereroland BRINCKER Otji-Herero
Woerterbuch, p. 336, and BLEEK, Reynard the Fox, p. 27 ; in Nyasaland Zeitschrift
Jiir afrik. und ocean. Sprachen, IV, pp. 136-145 ; in East Africa WOODWARD,

The Jackal 37

Eaba phokojoe ore : Ichi ! ichi ! ua nroba. Eaba khulu oa mo
tiisa Phokojoe a ba a ntša mokotlana, a ba a re o sa nkhisa
khulu linkong. Joale eaba khulu o talima hosele, o fapana le
mokotlana oa hae. O itse ka re o mo nea oona, a re : Ke oa
hao, khulu a hana, a mo tiisa.

Liphoofolo tsa ba tsa fihla. Eitse ha li fihla, a pshemoha ho
khulu, a baleha. Eaba li fihla li re : E, hase moo khulu u mo-
hale ; kajeno re tla tseba ho noa metsi, ka hore u ile ua tsoara
phokojoe, a se ke a noa metsi.

PHOKOJOE LE LEEBA, LE MOHOLOLI, LE NKOE

Ba re e ne e re e le phokojoe le leeba, leeba le behetse, le le
malinyane a le mararo. Eaba phokojoe e re : He, he leeba-e !
Eaba leeba le re : Oee ? Eaba phokojoe e re : Akhela ka tlōla.
Eaba leeba le akhela lelinyane le leng. Eaba phokojoe ea ja.

Stories in the Bondei Language, pp. 7 and 9 ; in Angola CHATELAIN, Folk-Tales of
Angola, pp. 153 and 21 5 ; in Cameroons Elli MEINHOF, Maerchen aus Kamerun,
pp. 3. 31, 47 and 67 ; Zeitschrift fur afrik. und ocean. Sprachen, III, p. 275. Among
the Fangs of the Gabun and Ogowe, where the tortoise tales seem to be exceed-
ingly numerous, (TRILLES, Proverbes, Legendes et Contes Fang in Bulletin de la
Societe Neuchateloise de Geogi aphie, 1905) the tortoise practically takes the place
of the hare in animal tales.

The negroes of Togaland on the Gold Coast give also to the tortoise an im-
portant place in their folklore, cf. HAERTTER, Aus der Volkslitteratur der Evheer
in Togo (in Zeitschrift fur afr. und ocean. Spr. VI, p. 123).

2 This tale is a combination of two different stories, viz. the story of the
dove, the jackal and the crane, and the story of the leopard's cubs. The only
parallel to the first known to me is found among the Hottentots ; but there are
numerous parallels to the second in Bantu folklore.

38 FOLK-TALES

her children. The jackal ate it. Then the jackal went away,
after having finished eating. The dove remained, crying.1

The crane arrived. It said : Dove, why are you crying ? The
dove said : The jackal told me to give him my children, to throw
them down to him ; he said that if I did not throw them down
he was going to jump up and eat all. The crane said : He will
not jump up, he is a liar ; he does not know how to jump at all ;
he was only deceiving you that you might give him your child-
ren to eat. The crane went away.

The jackal arrived after the crane had left. He said to the
dove : Listen, dove, listen ! throw down or I will jump up. The
dove said : I refuse. The jackal tried to jump up, but he only
took hold of the wall of the cave. The jackal came back and
said : Listen, dove, listen ! throw down or I will jump up. The
dove said : I refuse. The jackal said : Listen, dove, listen ! who
has taught you wisdom ? The dove said : The crane has just
told me that you cannot jump. The jackal asked : Where is he
now, the crane ? The dove said : Yonder he is in the marsh.

The jackal went down and went to the crane.2 When he
arrived near the crane, he said : Crane, when the wind blows from
yonder, where do you usually look to ? The crane said : And
you, where do you usually look to ? The jackal said : As for me
I usually look yonder. The crane said : I also usually look
where you look to.

He said : When it blows from that direction where do you
usually look to ? The crane said : And you, where do you
usually look to ? The jackal said : As for me, I usually look in
that direction. The crane said : I also usually look to where
you are looking.

He said : When the rain comes from yonder, where do you
usually look to ? The crane said also: As for you, where do you
usually look to ? The jackal said : As for me, I usually look in
that direction. The crane said : I also usually look to where you
are looking.

Then the jackal said : Crane, when the rain is coming just
from above, what do you usually do ? The crane also said : And
you, what do you usually do ! The jackal said : As for me I
usually do this, I cover my head with my arms. The crane said :
I also usually do so, I cover my head with my wings. As he

I Bleek (Reynard the Fox, p. 21) relates a story absolutely similar as curr-
ent among the Hottentots ; it contains the two incidents of the dove and the
jackal, and the jackal and the crane — called heron in Bleek's story. It is very
possible that it came into Basutoland through Hottentot influence.

The Jackal, the Dove, the Crane and the Leopard 39

Eaba phokojoe ea itsamaela, ha e qetile ho ja. Eaba leeba le
sala le 11a.

Eaba ho fihla mohololi. Eaba o re : Leeba, u ntso u llela'ng ?
Eaba leeba le re : Phokojoe o itse ke mo nee bana ba ka, ke ba
akhele ; a re, ha ke sa ba akhele, o tla tlōla a ba je kaofela.
Eaba mohololi o re : A ke ke a tlōla, o leshano ; ha a tsebe le
ho tlōla, o ba a u thetsa feela, a re u mo nee bana ba hao a ba
je. Eaba mohololi oa itsamaela.

Phokojoe oa fihla, mohololi a sa tsoa tloha. Eaba o re ho
leeba : He ! leeba-e, akhela ka tlōla. Eaba leeba le re : Kea
hana. Eaba phokojoe o re o leka ho tlōla, a itšoarella ka leha-
ha feela. Eaba phokojoe oa khutla, a re : He ! leeba-e, akhela
ka tlōla. Eaba leeba le re : Kea hana. Eaba phokojoe o re :
He ! leeba-e, na bohlale boo u tsoa bo rutoa ke mang ? Leeba
la re : Mohololi o tsoa ntjoetsa hoba u ke ke ua ba ua tlōla.
Eaba phokojoe o re : Na o kae mohololi ? Leeba la re : Ke
eane mane mohlakeng.

Eaba phokojoe o se a theoha, a ea ho mohololi. Eitse ha a
fihla ho mohololi, eaba o re : Mohololi, moea ha o e-tsoa koana
tia u ee u talime kae ? Eaba mohololi o re : Uena na u'u talime
kae ? Eaba phokojoe o re : 'Na ke ee ke talime koana. Eaba
mohololi o re : Le 'na ke ee ke talime moo u talimang teng.

Eaba o re : Ha o hlaha kooa, u'u talime kae. Eaba mohololi
o re : Le uena u'u talime kae ? Eaba phokojoe o re : 'Na ke ee
ke talime koana. Eaba mohololi o re : Le 'na ke ee ke talime
moo u talimang teng.

Eaba o re : Pula ha e hlaha kooa, uena u'u talime kae ? Eaba
mohololi le eena o re : Uena u'u talime kae ? Eaba phokojoe o
re : 'Na ke ee ke talime koana. Eaba mohololi o re : Le 'na ke
ee ke talime moo u talimang teng.

Eaba phokojoe o re : Mohololi, pula ha e theoha holimo mona,
u'u etse joang ? Eaba mohololi le eena o re : Na uena u'u etse
joang ? Eaba phokojoe o re : 'Na ke ee ke etse tjee, ke ikhuru-
metse ka matsoho hlohong. Eaba mohololi o re : Le 'na ke ee
ke etse tjee, ke ikhurumetse ka mapheo hlohong. Eitse ha a s'a

2 In Bleek's version the story ends a little differently ; the jackal seizes the
heron by the neck, breaking it in the middle. "Since that day the heron's neck
is bent".

40 FOLK-TALES

was doing so, the jackal pressed down his head, while he was
covering his head with his wings. The crane implored the
jackal. The jackal said : I am going to eat you, you taught
wisdom to the dove. Then the crane said : Let me go, my friend,
I shall show you where a leopard has brought forth her cubs.

He kept hold of him and said: Go and show me where the
leopard has brought forth her cubs. The crane went there and
showed him. The jackal said : Now you may go, my friend,
because you have shown me where there is much meat. The
crane went away.

The jackal went to the leopard and said : Leopard, would you
not like me to stay with your children ? The leopard said : Stay
with them ; they usually keep on crying when I have gone to
hunt. The jackal went down into the den of the leopard.
When he had entered it, he ate one of the cubs of the leopard ;
there were ten cubs.1

The leopard came at evening ; she arrived home. She said :
Jackal, bring out my children. The jackal brought out one of
the cubs : he then brought out the second one ; it came back.
He brought out again the third one ; he brought out the fourth
one ; he brought out the fifth one ; he brought out the sixth
one ; he brought out the seventh one ; he brought out the eighth
one ; he brought out the ninth one ; he brought it out again a
second time ; it was as if the cubs were still ten. Now the
leopard slept.

In the morning the leopard went out, she went to the open
country. The jackal ate another cub ; there remained only eight.
At evening the leopard came home. She arrived and said :
Jackal, bring out my children. The jackal brought out one;
when it had sucked it came back. The jackal brought out a
second one ; it came back. He brought out the third one ; it
came back. The jackal brought out the fourth one ; the jackal
brought out the fifth one; the jackal brought out the sixth one;
the jackal brought out the seventh one ; the jackal brought out
the eighth one. He brought it out again ; he brought it out
again ; it was as if they were still ten. Then their mother
slept.

I The story of the cubs eaten by the jackal seems to be rather popular among
the Bantu of South Africa. In Zambezi lore the hare eats the ten cubs of a
lioness (SMITH, Handbook of I la, p. 115, and BEGUIN, Les Ma-Rotse p. 90.) ; the
Zulu Uhlakanyana plays the same cruel trick to a lioness and to a doe (CAL-
LAWAY, op. cit. pp. 24 and 25), so does Hlakanyana to a leopard in a Kaffir ver-
sion (Theal, op. cit. p. 105). In a Ba-Suto variant (A. Sekese, op. cit. p. 214)
it is the rabbit's children that are eaten by the hare. It will be seen that in all

The Jackal, the Dove, the Crane and the Leopard 41

entse joalo phokojoe a mo hatella hlohong, hoja a sa ntse a
ikhurumelitse ka mapheo hlohong. Mohololi a ba a rapela pho-
kojoe. Phokojoe a re : Kea u ja, u ile ua joetsa leeba bohlale.
Joale mohololi a re : Ntlohele, mokan'a ka, ke tla u joentša moo
nkoe e tsoaletseng teng.

Eaba oa mo tšoara, a re : Tsamaea, u e'o ntjoentša moo nkoe
e tsoaletseng teng. Eaba mohololi o fihla a mo joentsa. Eaba
phokojoe o re : Joale u ka tsamaea, mokan'a ka, hobane u
ntjoentšitse moo nama e leng ngata. Eaba mohololi oa
itsamaela.

Eaba phokojoe o ea ho nkoe, eaba o re: Nkoe, ha u re ke u
salle le bana ba hao ? Eaba nkoe e re : Ntšalle le bona, ba 'ne
ba sale ba Ua ha ke alohile. Joale phokojoe a kena kahare ka
mokoting. Eitse ha a fihla ka mokoting, a ja lelinyane le leng
la nkoe, e le malinyane a leshome.

Eaba nkoe ea tla mantsiboea, ea oroha. Eaba e re : Phoko-
joe, ntsa bana. Eaba phokojoe e ntša lelinyane le leng ; eaba
e ntša le leng hape la bobeli, le leng la khutla. Eaba e boela
e ntsa la boraro ; eaba e ntša la bone ; eaba e ntša la bohlano ;
eaba e ntša la botšelela ; eaba e ntša la bosupa ; eaba e ntša la
boroba menoana e le 'meli ; eaba e ntša la boroba monoana o
le mong ; eaba e boela e le ntša hape, eaka a ntse a le lesho-
me. Joale nkoe eaba ea robala.

Joale eitse hosasane ea tsoa, ea ea naheng nkoe. Eaba pho-
kojoe o sala a ja le leng ; a sala a robile meno e le 'meli feela.
Eaba mantsiboea ea oroha nkoe, e tla hae. Ea fihla, ea re :
Phokojoe, ntsa bana. Eaba phokojoe o ntša lelinyane le leng;
eare hoba le nyanye, eaba lea khutla. Eaba phokojoe o ntsa
le leng la bobeli ; eaba lea khutla. Eaba phokojoe o ntša la
boraro, eaba lea khutla. Eaba phokojoe o ntša la bone ; eaba
phokojoe o ntša la bohlano ; eaba phokojoe o ntsa la botšelela ;
eaba phokojoe o ntša la bosupa ; eaba phokojoe o ntša la boro-
ba meno e le 'meli. A boela a le ntša hape, a ba a boela a le
ntša hape, eaka hojane a sa ntse a le leshome. Eaba 'm'a 'ona
oa ithoballa.

these tales the hare is the hero of the story. The jackal has probably been
substituted for it ; as the jackal is carnivorous the substitution is very natural.
— I have purposely kept in my version the numerous and somewhat fatiguing
repetitions with which the Ba-Suto like to adorn their stories. It is much bet-
ter to give the tales exactly as they are told, rather than try to reduce them to
our idea of what a tale should be.

42 FOLK-TALES

In the morning the leopard went to hunt. The jackal ate a
cub during the day ; seven were left. At evening the leopard
came home ; she said : Jackal, bring the children out. The
jackal brought out one of the cubs, it came back after having
sucked. He brought out another one ; he brought out the
third one ; he brought out the fourth one ; he brought out the
fifth one ; he brought out the sixth one ; he brought out the seventh
one ; but this one he brought out again, then he brought it out
again, then he brought it out again ; he brought it out four
times. It was as if they were still ten. Then their mother slept.

In the morning she went to hunt. During the day the jackal
ate one cub ; six remained. At evening the leopard came home
and said : Jackal, bring out the children. The jackal brought
out one ; he brought out another again ; he brought out the
third one ; he brought out the fourth one ; he brought out the
fifth one ; he brought out the sixth one. He brought it out
again ; he brought it out again ; he brought it out again ; he
brought it out again. He brought the same cub out five times,
so that they should be ten. Then their mother slept.

In the morning she went to hunt. The jackal ate one during
the day; only five remained. Their mother came home at
evening ; she said : Jackal, bring out the children. The jackal
brought out one ; then he brought out the second one ; he
brought out the third one ; he brought out the fourth one ; he
brought out the fifth one. This one he brought out again ; he
brought it out again ; he brought it out again ; he brought it
out again ; he brought it out again. It was as if they were
still ten. Then their mother slept.

In the morning she went to hunt. The jackal ate one ; there
remained four of them. At evening their mother came home,
and said : Jackal, bring out the children. The jackal brought
out a cub ; he brought out another one ; he brought out the
third one ; he brought out the fourth one. He brought it out
again ; he brought it out again ; he brought it out again ; he
brought it out again ; he brought it out again ; he brought it
out again. He brought it out seven times. Then their mother
slept.

In the morning she went to hunt. The jackal ate one again,
the fourth of these that were left ; there remained three. At
evening their mother came home ; she said : Jackal, bring out
the children. The jackal brought out a cub ; he brought out
another one; he brought out the third one. He brought it out
again ; he brought it out again ; he brought it out again ; he
brought it out again ; he brought it out again ; he brought it
out again ; he brought it out again. He brought it out eight
times Then their mother slept.

In the morning their mother went to hunt. The jackal ate

The Jackal, the Dove, the Crane and the Leopard 43

Joale hosasane a aloha. Eaba phokojoe o ja le leng motše-
are; a sala a supile. Eitse mantsiboea nkoe ea oroha, ea re :
Phokojoe, ntša bana. Eaba phokojoe e ntša lelinyane, eaba
lea khutla le se le antse. Ea boela ea ntša le leng ; ea ntša la
boraro, ea ntsa la bone, ea ntša la bohlano, ea ntsa la botšelela,
ea ntsa la bosupa, athe ea boela ea le ntsa, ea boela ea le ntša,
ea ba ea boela ea le ntsa ; ea le ntsa hane. Eaka a ntse a le
leshome. Joale 'm'a 'ona oa ithoballa.

Hosasane a aloha. Eaba phokojoe motšeare o ja le leng
hape ; a sala a tšeletse. Eitse mantsiboea ea oroha, ea re :
Phokojoe, ntsa bana. Phokojoe ea ntsa le leng ; ea boela ea
ntša le leng ; ea ntsa la boraro ; ea ntša la bone ; ea ntša la
bohlano ; ea ntša la botšelela. Eaba ea boela ea le ntsa ; ea ba
«a le ntsa hape ; ea ba ea le ntša hape ; ea ba ea le ntša hape.
Ea ie ntša hahlano le ntse le le leng, hore le qete leshome. Ea-
ba 'm'a 'ona oa ithoballa.

Hosasane a aloha. Eaba phokojoe o ja le leng motšeare, a
sala a se a le mahlano feela. Eaba 'm'a 'ona o oroha mantsi-
boea, a re : Phokojoe, ntša bana. Eaba phokojoe o ntsa le
leng ; a boela a ntša le leng hape la bobeli ; a ntša la boraro ;
a ntša la bone ; a ntsa la bohlano. A ba a le ntsa hape ; a ba
a le ntsa hape ; a ba a le ntsa hape ; a ba a le ntsa hape ; a ba
a le ntsa hape. Ea 'na ea ka a ntse a le leshome. Eaba 'm'a
"ona oa ithoballa.

Eitse hosasane a aloha. Eaba phokojoe o sala a ja le leng ;
a sala a se a le mane. Joale mantsiboea 'm'a 'ona a oroha, a
re : Phokojoe, ntsa bana. Joale phokojoe a ntša lelinyane le
leng, a ba a ntša le leng ; a ntša la boraro ; a ntsa la bone. A
baa le ntša hape; a ba a le ntša hape; a ba a le ntša hape; a
ba a le ntša hape ; a ba a le ntša hape ; a ba a le ntša hape ; o
le ntšitse hasupa. Ea 'na ea ka a ntse a le leshome. Joale

Eitse hosasane a aloha. Eaba phokojoe o sala a ja le leng
la bone ; a sala a se a le mararo. Eitse mantsiboea 'm'a 'ona
a oroha, a re : Phokojoe ntša bana. Phokojoe a ntsa lelinyane
le leng; a ba a ntsa le leng; a ntša la boraro. A ba a boela a
le ntša hape ; a ba a le ntša hape ; a ba a le ntsa hape ; a ba a
le ntsa hape ; a ba a le ntša hape ; a ba a le ntša hape ; a ba a le
ntsa hape ; a le ntša haboroba meno e 'meli. Ea 'na ea ka a
ntse a le leshome. Eaba 'm'a 'ona oa ithoballa.

Eitse hosasane 'm'a 'ona a aloha. Phokojoe a ja le leng

44 FOLK-TALES

one during the day ; there remained only two. At evening their
mother came home ; she said : Jackal, bring out the children.
He brought out one, it came back ; he brought out the second
one, he brought it out nine times. It was as if they were still
ten. Then their mother slept.

In the morning she went to hunt. The jackal ate one ; only
one remained. At evening their mother came home ; she said :
Jackal, bring out the children. The jackal brought out the last
cub, he brought it out ten times. Then their mother slept.

In the morning their mother went to hunt. The jackal ate that
last one during the day. Then he made a hole at the back of
the den. The mother came at evening ; she said : Jackal,
bring out the children. The jackal answered : You ate them,
you ate them : and now you say : Jackal, bring out the children.
The leopard repeated a second time : Jackal, bring out the child-
ren. The leopard outside tried to find a way to come in, then
she arrived where the jackal was. The jackal went out at the
back, there where he had dug out at the back, where he had
made a hole. Now when the leopard was inside, she looked in
vain for her children ; she found they were not there. She
wanted to go out ; she went out, and found that the jackal was
gone. She followed the scent of the jackal.1

The jackal went along the mountain side, and found where
bees had gathered honey.2 He arrived and stood there. The
leopard arrived and said : Jackal, where are my children? The
jackal said : There they are, they are having school. The
leopard asked : Where are they ? The jackal said : Come here,
you will hear them singing. The leopard drew near and listen-
ed. The jackal said : There they are, your children. Then the
jackal left her: he went away. The leopard stayed listening to
her children.

The baboon came to the leopard, and said : Leopard, what
are you waiting here for? The leopard said: I am listening to
my children ; the jackal says he has given them schooling. The
baboon took his stick, and poked it in the hole, saying : I am
going to see your children to-day. When the bees came out,

I The end of the story is different in A. Sekese's version; the hare, over-
taken in a cave by the enraged rabbit, tells him that the cave is falling down ;
the rabbit tries to hold up the cave with its hands, so enabling the hare to es-
cape. Theal's version has the same incident. In the Zulu version Uhlakanyana
also contrives to kill the leopard. In the Zambezi version given by Beguin the
hare escapes by another trick ; he meets with herdboys and teaches them this
song : We have eaten the lioness's children. The lioness kills the boys to aven-
ge the death of her cubs.

The Jackal, the Dove, the Crane and the Leopard 45

motšeare; a sala a se a le mabeli feela. Eitse mantsiboea 'm'a
'ona a oroha ; eaba o re : Phokojoe, ntsa bana. A ntša le leng,
la khutla ; a ntša la bobeli, a le ntša haboroba mono o le mong.
Ea 'na ea ka a ntse a le leshome. Eaba 'm'a 'ona oa ithoballa.

Eitse hosasane a aloha. Eaba phokojoe o ja le leng ; eaba
ho sala le le leng feela. Eitse mantsiboea 'm'a 'ona a oroha, a
re : Phokojoe, ntsa bana. Phokojoe a ntsa lelinyane leo le le
leng, a le ntsa haleshome. Eaba 'm'a 'ona oa ithoballa.

Eitse hosasane 'm'a 'ona a aloha. Eaba phokojoe o ja leno
le leng motšeare. Eaba o phunya ntlo ena kamorao. Eaba
m'a 'ona oa tla, mantsiboea ; a re : Phokojoe, ntsa bana. Ea-
ba phokojoe o re : Ua ba ja, ua ba ja, u tloha u re : Phokojoe,
ntsa bana. Eaba nkoe o boela a pheta hape, a re: Phokojoe,
ntša bana. Nkoe e itse ka batla kantle ka mona moo e kenang
le teng, eaba e kena ka ho phokojoe ; phokojoe a tsoa kamorao,
kamoo a neng a phuntse ka mora' ntlo, kamoo a neng a entse
lesoba. Joale nkoe, ha a s'a le kahare, o tsoatsoile a batla, a
fumana bana ba hae ba le sieo. Joale a lakatsa ho tsoa ; a ba
a tsoa, a fumana phokojoe a se a le sieo. A nka mohlala oa
phokojoe.

Phokojoe a ea le thaba, a fumana moo linotši li behetseng teng.
A fihla, a ema. Eaba nkoe oa hlaha, o re : Phokojoe, bana ba
ka ba kae ? Eaba phokojoe o re : Ke bana ka mona, ke ba ruti-
le sekolo. Eaba nkoe o re : Ba kae ? Eaba phokojoe o re : Tlo
koano, u tl'o ba mamela ba ntse ba bina. Eaba nkoe e fihla e
mamela. Eaba phokojoe o re : Ke bao bana ba hao. Eaba oa
itlohela phokojoe, oa itsamaela ; nkoe e sala e mametse bana
ba eona.

Ha tla tšoene ho nkoe ; ea re : Nkoe, u ntso u emetse'ng moo ?
Eaba nkoe o re : Ke mametse bana ba ka, phokojoe o itse o ba
rutile sekolo. Eaba tšoene o nka monkhoane oa hae, oa hlo-
hlotsa, o re : Ke sa tla bona bana ba hao kajeno. Eitse linotši
ha li e-tsoa, eaba tsoene o tlōlela holim'a lefika ; joale eaba

2 I do not know any parallel in Bantu or South African folklore to this in-
cident of the leopard thinking that bees were her children. The mention of
the school is one of these features which are added, more or less unconsciously,
by the narrators to bring the tales up to date. It does not in the least prove that
this part of the story has been borrowed from foreign sources. Probably in
older versions the jackal was merely pretending to teach them songs.

46 FOLK-TALES

the baboon jumped up on the rock ; the bees took hold of the
leopard. The baboon said : There you have your children !

The jackal raised a hue and cry in the mountain, saying : Let
the bees take hold of her. They took hold of the leopard. The
leopard threw herself into a pool. As she was going out of the
water, they took hold of her again, till she sank under the water.
She died under the water.

VI
LEOBU :

They say that in the days of old there was a chief ; his son
was called Leobu. That chief heard that his people were in
distress.2 He called his son who was named Leobu. But a
servant of that chief was present ; he heard when the chief was
giving orders to his son. The chief said to his son Leobu: Go
and tell my people that they shall die and rise again.

I This is one of the very few Ba-Suto tales which may be said to belong to
the category of religious legends. It is usually known, since Bleek published
some versions of it {Reynard the Fox, pp. 69-74) as the story of the origin of death.
It exists, more or less in the same form, over nearly the whole of Africa, among
Bushmen, Hottentots, Bantu, Ashantis, Hausas etc. In all the Bantu field and
among the Hausas the two messengers are about the same, viz. the chameleon
and a lizard, or two different kinds of lizard ; cf. for the Ba-Suto, CASALIS, Les
Bassoutos, p. 255, Revue des Trad. pop. 1888, p. 396 ; for the Zulus, BLEEK, op. cit. p.
58, and DOHNE, Zulu-Kafir Diet. p. 256 ; for the Ba-Ronga, JUNOD, Contes, p. 1 36,
and id. Les Ba-Ronga, p. 402 ; for the Ma-Nganja and the Yaos of Nyasaland,
SCOTT, Manganja Diet, p. 419, and MACDONALD, Africana, I, p. 288 ; for the
Upper Zambezi tribes, J ACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, pp. III-II4; for the Hausas,
Zeitschrift fur afrikanische Sprachen, 1888, p. 58 (article by Christaller on Negersa-
gen von der Goldkiiste). It is only in a Luyi tale (JACOTTET, Textes Louyi, p. 117) that
the second messenger is not a lizard, but the hare (as in the Hottentot and Bush-
man tales).

There is however a not unimportant difference between all those versions.
In the Ba-Suto, Zulu and Hausa versions it is the chameleon that is the true mes-
senger, the lizard goes of itself with a false message. In the Ma-Nganja, Ronga
and Zambezi tales the two messengers are sent, each with a different message,
and the true message is the one delivered by whoever arrives first. It appears
to me that the second version is the more primitive of the two.

Leobu 47

li tšoara nkoe. Eaba tšoene o re : Ke bao bana ba hao !

Eaba phokojoe o hlaba mokhosi thabeng, o re : Ha li mo
tsoare. Joale eaba li tšoara nkoe. Nkoe ea itahlela letšeng.
Eitse ka re e nyoloha metsing, tsa e tšoara, e be e qoele har'a
metsi ; ea ba ea shoella metsing.

VI
LEOBU

Ba re e ne e re mehleng ea khale, morena e mong o na a le
teng; mor'a hae ke Leobu. Joale morena enoa o na a utloa
hoba batho ba hae ba tšoenyeha. Joale a bitsa mora oa hae ea
bitsoang Leobu : Empa lekhabunyane le ne le le teng la mo-
rena eo ; la utloa ha a laea mora oa hae. Morena a re ho mora
oa hae Leobu : Tsamaea, u re ho batho bao ba ka, ba shoe ba
tie ba be ba tsohe.

According to the Ashantis the two messengers are the goat and the sheep
(Zeitsch.fiir afrik. Sprachen, 1 887, pp. 55 and 58); in one of the versions given
by Christaller the true messenger sent with the message of life is the goat, but
the sheep goes of itself with the message of death and arrives first. In a second
version the two messengers are sent by God with two different messages ; who-
ever arrives first, his message is to be the true one.

According to the Hottentots (cf. BLEEK, Reynard the Fox, pp. 69-73, and Brief
Report of Bushman Folk-Lore, p. 10) it is the moon which sends the hare to men
with the message of life, but the hare, out of mere malice, turns it into a mes-
sage of death (in a somewhat different version the true messenger is an insect
which allows the hare to go to the men in its place.) In one of the Hottentot
versions it is related that the moon's mother dies in consequence of the false
message delivered by the hare. The Bushman (Bleek, Brief Report, p. 9) have
a tradition, according to which the moon tells the hare that its dead mother will
come to life again, but the hare continues to cry, saying that the moon is de-
ceiving it. There seem to be no messengers, but the story is closely connected
with the Hottentot tradition. — On all this subject cf. a long note at pp. 112 and
113 of my Textes Soubiya.

2 It is not explained why the people were in distress, probably it was on
account of death having occurred among them. — The name of the first messen-
ger Leobu is said to mean chameleon. In other Ba-Suto versions he is not said
to be the chief's son.

48 FOLK-TALES

Leobu went But the servant, whose name was Khatoane,
went out quickly, quickly. When he came to the people of the
chief, he said : It is said men shall die and not rise again. He
went to the villages and the hamlets, telling the people that it
was said, men shall die and not rise again. He went round all
the villages and all the hamlets. Thus Khatoane.1

It was there that, afterwards, arrived the son of the chief,
whose name was Leobu. He said : My father says that I must
tell you that men shall die and rise again. They said : No ! the
first message is the first message ; the one which comes after-
wards is but mere talk.2 He said : No ! I must tell you that the
chief said that I must tell you : Men shall die and rise again.

They refused, saying : No, we don't know you. They said :
We have listened to Khatoane's message ; he said that men
shall die and not rise again ; as for your message we do not
believe it. The first message is the first message. That is
where we stand : the first message is the first message, the one
which comes afterwards is but mere talk.

It is the end of the tale.

I Khatoane means a lizard. In some versions the servant is called Chelle-
Chelle, another kind of lizard. Casalis {op. cit. p. 255) erroneously makes the
lizard the true messenger, and attributes the part of the deceiver to the chame-
leon.

Leobu 49

Eaba Leobu oa tsamaea. Athe lekhabunyane, le bitsoang
Khatoane, le ne le tsoile kapele-pele. Ha le fihla ho batho ba
morena, la re : Ho itsoe, batho ba shoe, ba se ke ba tsoha. A
tsamaea le metse le metsana, a ba bolella hore ho itsoe, batho
ba shoe, ba se ke ba tsoha. A qeta metse e meholo le metsana
kaofela. Ke Khatoane.

Eaba moo ho fihlang mora oa morena hamorao, ea bitsoang
Leobu. A re : Ntate o itse, ke le joetse hore batho ba shoe, ba
be ba tsohe. Ba re : Che, lentsoe la pele ke lentsoe la pele, la
morao ke makoalepetso. Joale a re : Che, kea le bolella, mo-
rena o itse ke le bolelle, batho ba shoe, ba be ba tsohe.

Ba hana, ba re : Che, ha re u tsebe. Ba re : Re mametse litaba
tsa Khatoane; o na a itse, batho ba shoe, ba se ke ba tsoha ; tsa
hao ha re li lumele. Lentsoe la pele ke lentsoe la pele. Re ema
moo : lentsoe la pele ke la pele, la morao ke makoalepetso.

Ke tšomo ka mathetho.

2 I translate in this way the obscure Se-Suto word makoalepetso, whose real
meaning and etymology are not now to be obtained. The whole sentence has
become a proverbial expression meaning that when something has been said it
can no more be disclaimed ; what has been said or promised remains.

5o FOLK-TALES

VII
THE FOUR YOUNG MEN1

They say there were four young men ; the fifth person was a
woman. The woman was staying on a stony hill ; the four
young men were staying on another stony hill. These young
men used to hunt animals ; but this woman was unable to hunt,
she was sitting on a heap wondering what to eat. These young
men went on killing animals ; they were eating them, living in
the open country.

Now one of them said : That person over there who is like
us, who is killing game for her ? One of them said : She is not
like us, she is unable to kill game. One said : She has feet and
hands and a head ; why should she be unable to kill game ?
Then one said : I am going to her, to see what kind of man it
is who is not killing game.

He found her still sitting on the ground. He said : What are
you eating, you person ? She said : I do not eat anything, I am me-
rely drinking water. — Nothing more ? — No. He went away ;
went on saying : She is not of the same kind as us, she is of
another kind. He came back to the other young men and said :
It is a human being who is unable to kill game. They said :
What is she like ? — She is just like us as far as the hands, the
feet and the head are concerned, but she is of another kind. —
And why does she not kindle any fire ? — She is merely sitting
on the ground. Now the other young men wondered ; they
slept, they slept.

I This tale may be called a legend. It explains, in a truly African fashion,
the origin of marriage ; the man hunts the animals and procures the meat of the
family, the woman cooks, moulds pots, performs all household operations. This
legend, remarkable in many ways, was told me many years ago by an old wo-
man, but I suspect she did not tell me the whole of it ; there are certain evident
lacunae. I have tried in vain to find other people who knew it. It seems to be
known by very few people only. A Zambezi story (JAC0TTET, Textes Soubiya,
p. 1 18) has some points in common with it; the men and women lived in two
different villages ; one day as the fire of the men had gone out, one of them
went to the women's village to procure more, and finding the food of the women
better than his own remained there, and married one of the women. After a

The four young men 5 l

VII
BAHLANKANA BA BANE

Ba re e ne e le bahlankana ba bane ba nang le mosali oa bo-
hlano, mosali a lula lerallaneng le leng, bahlankana ba bane
ba lula lerallaneng le leng. Joale bahlankana banaba ntse ba
tsoma liphoofolo ; joale mosali enoa eena o tsietsoe ke ho tsoma,
a lutse hammoho, a tsietsoe ke ntho ee a e jang. Joale bahla-
nkana bana bona ba bolaea liphoofolo, ba ntse ba e-ja, ba lula
nahathothe.

Joale e mong a re : Na eloa ha a tsamaea joale ka rōna, eloa
liphoofolo o li tsomeloa ke mang ? Joale e mong a re : Ha a
tsamaee joale ka rōna, ha a tšoanela ho bolaea liphoofolo. E
mong are: O na le maoto le matsoho, ha a tšoanela ho bolaea
liphoofolo ke'ng ? Eaba e mong o re : Ke sa ea ho eena, ke e'o
bona na ke motho ea joang ha a sa tsome liphoofolo.

A mo fihlela a nts'a lutse. Eaba o re : U ja'ng uena ? Eaba
o re : Ha ke je letho, ke noa metsi. — Ke ho fela ? — E. Joale
he a tloha, a tsamaea; eaba o re: Ha a sebopehong sa rōna, o
sebopehong sesele. Joale he a ea ho bona bahlankana ba
bang, a re : Ke motho a sa tšoanelang ho bolaea liphoofolo. Ba
re : O joang ? — E ka rōna manto le matsoho le hloho, empa
o sebopeho sesele. — Joale le mollo ha a o bese ? — O lula
feela. — O ja'ng? — O noa metsi: ha ho ntho e 'ngoe ee a
e jang. — Joale he le mollo? — Oa o hloka, o lula feela. Joa-
le he bahlankana ba bang ba makala; ba robala, ba robala.

time all the men came to live with the women. I do not know of any similar
tradition in other Bantu tribes.

An Ashanti legend (PERREGAUX, Chez les Achanti, p. 201, in Bulletin de la
Sociète neuchdteloise de Gèographie, 1906) says that the Great Spider who created
the world, created men and women apart. It placed a bed of sand between
them so as to prevent any intercourse unknown to it. A man crossed the divid-
ing line and remained with the women for a time. The Spider discovered the
transgression, and punished it. Some details of that legend may be due to chris-
tian influence, but on the whole it has a distinctively African colouring, -and is
certainly related to the Ba-Suto story.

52 FOLK-TALES

Next morning they went to hunt animals ; they came back
after killing some. Now the young man said : You men, I am
going to cut her some meat, so that I may see if she will eat it.
They consented. He cut some meat ; he took some fire, and
gathered some dung of animals ;: he arrived and kindled a fire
for her ; and then he roasted that meat. When it was done, he
gave it to her, saying : Take and eat. She took and ate. He
saw her eat it and wondered. She ate it. Then he cut another
piece of meat in small pieces, saying : Take it, and roast it for
yourself by and by. Then he went to his companions, and
said : Well men ! she has eaten it ; she is eating just like us,
but she is in difficulties ; she is not of a kind which can kill
game. He went to hunt again.

That woman was naked ; the young men were naked too.
They could only clothe themselves with the skins of animals when
they were still raw. On the head they fixed their arrows.2 The
young man went and took her some meat. They said : You are
still killing animals for her ; we shall presently refuse to give
you of our meat. He was silent. Now that woman became
thirsty when she ate the flesh of animals. She dug out some
clay and moulded a pot with clay ; she put it in the sun, it dried ;
she went to draw water. When she came back she poured the
water into the pot; the clay fell in pieces. She again moulded
another pot.

Next morning she put it in the sun, it dried up ; she moulded
two. She gathered dry dung and burned her pots ; she saw
that they were ready ; she went to draw water and saw that
the water now stood in them. In one of them she put some
meat, and kindled a fire. The meat was cooked ; she dished it
up, dished it up on a flat stone ; some of it she put in the pot.
Now she ate. Some of it she put in the pot.

That man came ; he arrived ; she gave him some meat. She
said to that man : Eat some of this, taste it. He ate it and
drank some gravy ; he wondered. He went back to his compa-
nions and said : Men, she has moulded some earth ; with some
of it she draws water, with some of it she cooks meat. Taste
the meat she cooks ; she is not the same kind as ours. They
wondered.

One of them went, looked at her, and drank some gravy ; he
was astonished at the pot. He went to his companions and

i The Ba-Suto make fire with the dried dung of the cattle, as there are prac-
tically no trees in their country.

2 T*he bow and arrows have never been arms used by the Ba-Suto, who

The four young men 53

Hosasane ba ea tsoma liphoofolo, ba tla ba li bolaile. Eaba
mohlankana o re : Banna, ke sa mo sehela, ke ke ke bone na
o tla ja. Joale ba lumela. Eaba o seha nama, o nka mollo, o
roalla lisu tsa liphoofolo, o fihla, a besa, a 'mesetsa mollo ; a
boea a besa nama ena. Ha e butsoa, a mo nea eona, a re : Nka,
u je. A nka, a ja. A bona a e-ja, a makala. A e ja ; eaba o
nts'a beka e 'ngoe, a re : Nka, u tie u sale u ipesetsa. Eaba o
ea ho bahabo, o re : Banna, o jele ; o nts'a e-ja joale ka rōna ;
empa o tsietsoe, hase mofuta o ka bolaeang liphoofolo. Eaba
o boea a tsoma.

Mosali enoa o hlobotse ; le bona bahlankana ba hlobotse, ba
apara matlalo a liphoofolo ha a le metsi feela. Hlohong ba
roala metsu ea bona. Mohlankana a ea, a mo isetsa nama. Ba
re: U ntso u 'molaela liphofolo, re tla u tima joale. A khutsa.
Mosali enoa a nyoroa joale ha a e-ja nama ea liphoofolo. A
rafa letsopa, a bōpa pitsana ka letsopa ; a le bea letsatsing, la
omella, a ea kha metsi. Ha a fihla, a bea metsi ka letsopa, ea-
ba letsopa lea oa. Joale a boea a bōpa.

Hosasane a e bea, eaoma; a bōpa tse peli. . A roalla lisu, a
li besa, a bona li tsoa, a ea kha metsi, a bona metsi ana a nts'a
lutse. Joale e 'ngoe a hlatleha ka eona nama ; eaba o besa
mollo. Nama ea butsoa, eaba oa e tšola, a e tšolela letlapeng ;
o nokela e 'ngoe pitseng. Joale oa ja. Le e 'ngoe eona a e
bea ka pitsa.

Monna enoa a tla, a fihla, a mo nea nama e 'ngoe ; a re ho
monna eo : Ak'u je mono, u utloe. Joale a ja, a phoka moro ;
joale a makala. A boela ho bahabo, a re : Banna, o bōpile
mobu ; o mong o kha metsi ka oona, o mong o pheha ka oona.
Utloang nama ee a e phehang. Hase mofuta oa rōna. Ba
makala.

Ha ea e mong, a mo talima, a ja, a phoka moro, a makala ke
pitsa ena. Joale a ea ho bahabo, a re : Ke mofuta o mong, hase

only knew the spear, the battle axe and the knob kerrie. But bows and arrows
have always been the arms of the Bushmen. It is perhaps to be inferred from
this that we have here a legend of Bushman origin.

54 FOLK-TALES

said : She is another kind, she is not our kind. Now the first
young man remained with that woman ; she cooked game for
him. Then the three other young men dispersed ; they left
that man and that woman together.

It is the end of the tale.

VIII
MOLESO OA LIKHOMO :

In old, old times there were two polygamist wives. When
one of them was staying in her hut after being confined, her
sister wife made a plan to kill the confined woman by moleso oa
likhomo.2

Kaffir corn was sown in the open country ; it was eaten by
the cattle and the birds. They called it moleso oa likhomo. It
was in their eyes something which would kill whoever ate it.
As for the people, they were eating the fresh dung of the cattle,
after having mixed it with milk.3

The other wife ground it, cooked it, and made some porridge
which she took to the confined woman, saying : As for us, in
our home we are now eating this food ; but it is still our secret,
which is yet unknown to our neighbours. The confined woman
drank it ; her belly was filled.

Now, when she began to get fat, the other wife rejoiced, sa-
ying : I have killed her ; now her body is beginning to swell.
The confined woman became round and fat. She took a fine
healthy colour, because the porridge which she drank was pu-
rifying her blood. In the eyes of the other wife it was a sign
that she was going to die.

I This legend is taken from A. Sekese's book Mekhoa ea ba-Sotho, p. 215. It
is one of the very few which deal with the origins of mankind. A Zambezi
legend (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 120) is very similar; the first men only ate
the chaff of the millet (kaffir corn) and left the grain to be eaten by the cattle.
In a vzvxant (Textes Louyi, p. 119) they ate only the bran and threw the meal
away. x

Moleso oa Likhomo 55

oa rōna. Joale monna enoa eaba o sala ho mosali enoa ; o se
a mo apehela liphoofolo. Eaba bahlankana ba bararo ba qha-
lana, ba siea monna enoa le mosali enoa ba le babeli.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

VIII
MOLESO OA LIKHOMO

Boholo-holo-holo ho bo ho le basali ba babeli ba sethepu.
En'ere mohla e mong ka tlung a belehileng, mohalitsong a rera
ho bolaea motsoetse sehlōhō ka moleso oa likhomo.

Mabele a na a jaliloe har'a naha, a jeoa ke likhomo le lino-
nyana. Ba ne ba re ke moleso oa likhomo. A na a le joale ka
ntho e tšoanetseng ho ka bolaea ea ka e jang. Batho bona ba
re ba ne ba e-ja bolokoe joa likhomo, bo nong bo lujoa mofu-
tsoela ka lebese.

Mohalitsong a sila, a pheha, a fehla leshele-shele, a isetsa
motsoetse, a re : Kajeno rōna ha ka ntho ena rea e ja, empa e
sa le lekunutu la rōna le sa tsejoeng ke baahi bao re ahisaneng
le bona. Motsoetse a habola, mpa ea tlala.

Ea na eare mohla a qalang ho nona, mohalitsong a thaba, a
re : Ke mo laile, kajeno o qala ho ruruha 'mele. Motsoetse a
rotoloha, a ba mali-a-ntle, hoba leshele-shele leo a le noang le
ne le mo hloekisa mali. Ho mohalitsong hoo e se e le e 'ngoe
pontšo ea tsa ho shoa.

2 Moleso oa likhomo means probably : what is left to the cattle.

3 The same is said in a Zulu tradition told by Merensky (Allgemeine Missions
Zeitschrift, 1895). In a very curious legend of the Ba-Ganda (cf. Manuel de
langue Luganda, p. 149) the first man Kintu ate also the dung of a cow and drank
its urine.

5b FOLK-TALES

But as she was not dying, the other wife repented of feeding
her enemy so well. And now the other wife began also to eat
some of her poison. And till the present day, all confined wo-
men are given porridge of kaffir corn to eat, so that it may
make them fat like that confined woman of old, old time.

IX
MASILO AND MASILONYANE

It is said that they left their village to go a-hunting. They
found large and numerous ruins. Masilonyane2 went into the
middle of the ruins, Masilo going round the outside. Masilo-
nyane went on and found large pots turned upside down. Now
Masilonyane found a very large one ; he tried to raise it, he
pulled it, he pulled it, it stuck fast. He stood up and called
Masilo, saying : Come and help me to turn this pot ; it refuses
to be turned.

Masilo said : Pass on, why do you trouble about pots ? After
he had said so, Masilonyane stooped down again, he pulled the
pot, he pulled it, it gave way : qhu ! An old woman came out
of it. She had a little mill on which she was grinding red
ochre. Masilonyane wanted to turn her upside down again,
but she asked him, saying : My grandchild, do you turn me up,
and then turn me upside down again ? As you see, I am grind-
ing red ochre.3

I This tale is one of the most popular in Basutoland. It was first published
by Casalis ( Etudes sur la langne sechuana, p. 93); a Be-Chwana variant is given
in Folk Lore Journal, I, p 1 39. In Zulu the tale of the two brothers (CALLAWAY,
op. cit. p. 217) is very similar. It is, as with us, a bird that reveals the murderer.
In the Zambezi tale of Monga (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 72) and the Angola
story of Mutelembe and Nyunga (CHATELAIN, op. cit. p. 127) which are not so
closely similar to the Ba-Suto version, it is a dog which reveals the murder of
the younger brother. In the Zulu tale of Unyengebule (Folk Lore Journal, I, p. 27)
a husband murders his wife ; a bird reveals the murder ; cf. the notes below.

Masilo and Masilonyane 57

Ea na eare ha a sa shoe, mohalitsong a inyatsetsa ho ōtla
sera sa hae. Eaba moo le eena mohalitsong a qalang ho ja
boloi ba hae. Le ho fihlela letsatsi lena batsoetse ba fehleloa
leshele-shele la mabele, hore le 'ne le ba nontše tjee ka motsoe-
tse oa boholo-holo.

IX
MASILO LE MASILONYANE.

Ho thoe ba tsoa hae, ba ea tsoma. Joale he ba fihlela marako
a maholo, a mangata. Joale Masilonyane a kena har'a marako ;
joale Masilo a 'na a tsamaea marako kantle. Joale Masilonyane,
a tsamaea, a ribolla mephata e ribehiloeng. Joale a fumana
mophata Masilonyane, a o tosa, a o tosa, a o tosa, oa hana. A
ema, a bitsa Masilo, a re : Tlo u nthibollise mophata ; o hana
ha ke o ribolla.

Joale he Masilo a re : U fete, uena mophata u e tsotelletse'ng ?
Joale he ha a tsoa rialo, Masilonyane a boela a inama, a o tosa,
a o tosa, oa re qhuu. Setsoatsana sa tsoa ka teng, se e-na le
leloalanyana, se ntse se sila letsoku. Joale a re o sa leka ho se
ribeha, empa sa 'motsa, sa re : Ngoan'a ngoan'a ke, ua nthibolla,
ua nthibehetsa ? Joale u fumana ke ntse ke sila matsoku a
mafubelu.

2 Masilonyane is the diminutive of Masilo, the little Masilo. It is a very
common custom among the Ba-Suto to give to a younger brother or sister the
name of his elder brother or her elder sister in its diminutive form, as Bulane
and Bulanyane, Mathose and Mathosane, Senkepeng and Senkepenyana, etc.

3 The incident of the pot out of which an old woman comes is found in the
Be-Chwana variant, as well as in the Zulu tale of the Two brothers. It is also met
with in the Ba-Suto tale of Tšetlo (A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 2l8). In Casalis' version
it is a man with a very large leg who comes out of the pot.

58 FOLK-TALES

Now she said to Masilonyane : Carry me on your back. Be-
fore Masilonyane had time to put her on his back she put her-
self on the back of Masilonyane. Masilonyane then called
Masilo., Masilo said : Did I not ask you what you had to do
with these pots ? He mocked him. Then Masilo went away ;
Masilonyane also went away.

They went on together, they walked together. Masilonyane
said : Oho ! my brother, do help me, please, to carry this old
woman. But the old woman said : No, my grandchild, it is you
who must carry me.1 Masilonyane then saw some hartebeests
which were running. He said : Grandmother, get down that
I may go and kill one of these animals with long legs, so that
I may carry you easily in its skin. She sat down ; Masilonyane
hunted the hartebeests. Both he and Masilo ran away. Masi-
lonyane went to hide himself. When the old woman saw that he
had gone, she left her place and went on, saying : Here is the
little foot of my grandchild, here is another one. She arrived
where he had hid himself, she arrived and put herself on the
back of Masilonyane.

Now Masilonyane had dogs with him. They went on going,
they went on doing so. Then Masilonyane said : Grandmother,
get down that I may go and kill that long legged animal, so
that I may carry you. His grandmother sat down. He ran
away to hide himself. She did as before; she said: Here is
the little foot of my grandchild, here it another one. When
she was quite near, Masilonyane said to the dogs : Saa ! eat
her, eat her completely, but leave her big toe (it was as big as
this ! as big as the leg of a man). The dogs took hold
of her. She said : My grandchild, let me go. The dogs killed
her, ate her, ate her completely, leaving her big toe.2

Masilonyane came. He had an axe with him. He arrived
and chopped at the toe ; many cows came out of it. He chop-
ped again, there came out a fine cow coloured like a guinea
fowl. Now Masilo came running to Masilonyane and said :
Give me my share. Masilonyane said : No, you refused to help
me. They went on,. Masilo still entreating his younger brother

1 In a Zulu tale, Usomamehityo (Folk Lore Journal, I, p. 131) cannot get rid of
"a child of the fast sticking people" whom he was carrying on his back; cf. also the
Old man of the sea in Sinbad the Sailor's tale (Arabian Nights).

2 In the Zulu tale of the Two brothers the old woman tells the young man
who has been carrying her to hew a tree ; out of the tree comes a large number
of cattle, and lastly a fine white ox. In the Zambezi story of Chinamina (JACOT-
TET, Textes Soubiya, p. 59) the toe of Seedimwe is cut, and many people come
forth from it. The cannibal Uzembeni in Zulu folklore (CALLAWAY, op. cit,

Masilo and Masilonyane 59

Joale sa re : Mpepe, ho Masilonyane. Joale Masilonyane a
e-s'o re oa se pepa, setsoatsana se be se se ipepisa Masilonyane.
Joale Masilonyane a bitsa Masilo. Joale Masilo a re : Ke itse
ke u joetsa mephata u itse u e etsa'ng ? Joele he a mo tlaka.
Joale he Masilo oa khutla ; joale Masilonyane oa khutla.

Ba tla ba teana, ba tsamaea hammohoj Joale o re : Oho,
ngoan'eso, ak'u nkhatholle, u pepe setsoatsana sena. Joale he
setsoatsana se re : Che, ngoan'a ngoan'a ke, u mpepile. Joale
he Masilonyane a bona likhama li matha. Joale a re : Nkhono,
hlohloloha, ke e'o bolaea pholofolo 3 ke tsena tse masotō a ma-
lelele, ke u pepe. Joale he se rule, li phalalisoe ke Masilonyane.
Ba baleha ba babeli. Joale a ea ipata Masilonyane. Joale se
bone hobane o ile, se tlohe, se tsamaee, se re : Leotoana la
ngoan'a ngoan'a ke sele, le leng sele. Joale sa ea fihla moo a
ipatileng, se be se se fihla, se ipepisa Masilonyane.

Joale Masilonyane o na a na le limpja. Joale ba 'ne ba tsa-
maee, ba 'ne ba etse joalo. Joale Masilonyane a re : Nkhono,
ak'u hlohlolohe, ke e'o u bolaela pholofolo eno e maoto a ma-
lelele, ke tl'o u pepa. Joale he nkhono'ae a lula. Joale he a
balehe, a e'o ipata. Joale a etsa joale ka pele, a re : Leotoana
la ngoan'a ngoan'a ke sele, le leng sele. Ere ha a atamela
haufi, joale Masilonyane a re ho limpja, 4 a re : Saa, ha li mo je
li mo qete, li siee mono o motona oa leoto (o kana ! o ka ka
leoto). Joale he limpja li mo tsoare. A re : Ngoan'a ngoan'a ke,
ntlohele. Joale limpja li 'molaee, li mo je, li mo qete, li siile mono".

A ea he Masilonyane. O na a na le selepe, a fihla he, a ra-
tha mono oo; ha tsoa likhomo. A eketse a rathe, ha tsoa kho-
mo e ntle, Khaka-'malane. Joale he Masilo a titime ho tla ho
Masilonyane, a re : Nkhapise. Joale Masilonyane a re : En-en, 5
u hanne ho mphomotsa. Joale he ba tsamaea he, o nts'a buisa
moen'ae hore a mo hapise ; raoen'ae a hana.

p. 48) has also a very large toe, and is therefore called Long-toe.

The name of the beautiful cow, Khaka-'malane, means a cow having colours
like a guinea fowl. In the Zulu tale the cow is white ; it is also so in Casalis'
version (but see a note a little lower down).

3 Pholofolo, old Se-Suto form for phoofolo, wild animal.

4 Mpja, old Se-Suto form for ntja, dog.

5 En-en, no, is colloquial Se-Suto. It is very nasal, pronounced nearly as
French hein !

^O FOLK-TALES

to give him his share, but the younger brother kept on refusing.

After a while, Masilonyane said : Oh ! where shall we find
water ? I am so thirsty. Masilo said : Bee ! there is a fountain
with good water. They went to that fountain. Now that
fountain was covered with a large flat stone. They put their
spears beneath it and turned it up. Masilo said : Hold the
stone that I may drink first, afterwards I shall hold it for you.
He held it for Masilonyane. As he was stooping down to the
water, Masilo let the stone go, it crushed him, it crushed Masi-
lonyane.1

It is said that then the heart of Masilonyane went out of him
and became a bird.2 It flew away, and arrived first at the village.
It sang :3

Tsoili, tsoili, tsoili,

Masilo has killed Masilonyane at the fountain,

To get the many-coloured cow from his drove of white cattle.

Now the people said 4 : Hear ! it is a bird, it is a bird that says :
Masilo has killed Masilonyane at the fountain,
To get the many-coloured cow from his drove of white cattle.

The people remained in a state of expectancy.

Masilo arrived with those cattle. — Oh ! what beautiful cows !
What beautiful cows ! Where is Masilonyane ? — I do not know,
we have separated ; he went where he went, I went where I
went. Then they asked the bird. The bird had now become
Masilonyane again.5

He told his tale, he told them : I have been killed by Masilo ;
you may go to such and such a fountain, there you will find my
clothes. They went there in haste, found his clothes, and came
with them. Now Masilonyane spoke. He said : Masilo, do you
still maintain that these cows are yours ? He said : Yes. — If

1 The murder of a man bv his brother is a very common episode in folk-
tales. Besides the references given above, cf. the Ba-Suto tales of Mosebesebe
and Mosebekoa and of Mathose and Mathosane which will be given in this
volume, also the Zambezi tale of Sabwiza fjACOTTET, Textes Louyi, p. 131). In
the tales of Monga and Mutelembe and Nyunga, the elder brother kills the younger
merely because he has been more successful in hunting than himself. — In
the Zulu tale of the Two brothers the younger brother is let down a cliff by his
brother in order to drink water at the bottom, and there left to die.

2 It is only in the Ba-Suto version (in Casalis' as well as ours) that it is said
that the heart of Masilonyane has become a bird; cf. also our tale of Senkatana
(no. XI) and the story of Nyopakatala in my Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p.
112, where the same incident is found. In the same way the isala (bunch worn
on the head) of the murdered Unyengebule becomes a bird.

3 The song of the bird is very difficult to translate ; khaka- 'malane oa tšoeu
tsabo means lit. the guinea-fowl-coloured one of the white (i. e. cows) of his. It

Masilo le Masilonyane 6 1

Joale a re : Khele, metsi re ea a fumana kae ? Ke nyoriloe.
Joale Masilo a re : Bee, seliba se teng se monate. Joale ba ee
libeng seo. Joale seliba sena se koahetsoe ka letlapa le leholo.
Joale he ba bee marumo a bona, ebe ba ribolia lejoe. Joale he
Masilo o re : Tsoara letlapa lena ke tie ke noe pele, kamorao ke
tla u tšoarela lona. Joale a mo tsoarele. Joale ha a inametse
metsing, Masilo a le lese, le mo pitle, le pitle Masilonyane.

Joale he ho thoe pelo ea Masilonyane ea tsoa, ea e-ba nonya-
na ; joale he ea rura, ea fihla pele hae, e re :

Tsoili, tsoili, tsoili,

Masilo o bolaetse Masilonyane selibeng.
A mo tsekisa Khaka-'malane ea tšoeu tsabo.
Joale he : Utloang, ke nonyana, ke nonyana, e re :
Masilo o bolaetse Masilonyane selibeng,
A mo tsekisa Khaka-'malane ea tšoeu tsabo.
Joale he ho lutsoe ka tebello.

Masilo a fihla le likhomo tsena. — A likhomo tse ntle ! —
Masilonyane o kae ? — Ha ke mo tsebe, re ile ra khelohana ;
eena o ile moo a ileng, 'na ke ile moo ke ileng. Joale he ebe
ho botsoa nonyana eo. Joale nonyana eo e se e le Masilonyane.

Joale he o phetela he, o phetela batho : Ke bolailoe ke Ma-
silo ; le ka ea selibeng sa hore, le ea fumana likobo tsa ka teng.
Joale ba phaletsc, ba fumana likobo tsa hae, ba tla le tsona.
Joale he oa bua, o re : Masilo, u tiisa matla hore likhomo tsena
ke tsa hao na ? Ore: E. — Ha e le tsa hao, u mpolaetse'ng ?

is very probably this which has caused Casalis in his version of our tale to say
that the beautiful cow was white (in all versions I myself have heard it is always
called khaka-'malane, the guinea-fowl-coloured one).

4 In the Be-Chwana and in Casalis' versions the bird comes to sit on one of
the horns of the beautiful cow. Masilo kills it with a stone, but it comes to life
again. The same thing is found in the Zambezi tales of Singalamba (JACOTTET,
Textes Louyi, p. 77) and Chobe-chobe (id. Textes Soubiya, p. 74) and in the Ronga
story of Nwahungukuri (JUNOD, Les Ba-Ronga, p. 311). In the stories quoted
above of Monga and Mutelebe and Nyunga the dog is also killed and comes back
to life.

5 In Casalis' version nothing is said of Masilonyane coming back to life;
it is the same with the Be-Chwana story and most other parallels. But in all
versions of the tale collected by me, Masilonyane either comes back to life or
is found not yet dead under the fiat stone at the fountain. Some versions add
that Masilo was killed for the murder of his brother.

62 FOLK-TALES

they were yours why then did you kill me ? The people said
It is true ; it was Masilonyane's heart that told us first. *~
It is now the end of the tale.

X

TSELANE

In this tale they say that the people of this tale are light-
coloured people, with hair like the hair on a cob of maize. They
eat meat with big needles ; they eat stooping down. They
have a white hut ; you may see it from far. It is drawn by oxen
with their tails. There are many goods in it. Their huts are
very large huts, full of goods ; their pots are of iron ; they have
much brass and lots of beads.3

Now the people of that hut left and went to live somewhere
else. That beautiful hut was left alone ; but the daughter of
that house refused to leave it. Her name was Tselane. Her
mother used to bring her food. When she arrived she said :
Tselane my child, Tselane my child,
Take, take this bread and eat, Tselane my child.
The daughter answered :

I hear, mother; I hear, mother.
Mother, you speak like the finch-weaver bird,
Like the sparrow that sits on a reed.
Then Tselane went out, took the bread and ate.

1 The episode of the bird, or the dog, which reveals a murder is very com-
mon in Bantu folklore. It is either the murder of a brother, as in most parallels
above, or of a wife as in Unyengebule and Nwahungukuri, or of a child as in Singa-
lamba. Sometimes the bird reveals an incest as in Chobe-chobe. In an Angola
tale (CHATELAIN, op, cit. p. 141) it merely reveals to a woman the names of her
brothers-in-law. The revealing bird must not be confused with the messenger
bird which will be found in other tales.

2 This tale was first published in 1842 by Arbousset in Relation d'nn voyage
d' exploration, etc. p. 1 19. Ours is a little more complete but exactly like it in all
incidents ; A. Sekese gives the same version also (op. cit. p. 194). The Zulu story

Tselane 63

Joale ba re : Ke 'nete, pelo ea Masilonyane ke eona e re bolele-
tseng pele.

Joale ke tšōmo ka mathetha.

X

TSELANE

Tšomong ena ho thoe batho ba tšomong ke bana ba basooana,
ba meriri e kang bolepo ba poone, ba jang nama ka mamao, ba
jang ba inamile. Joale ba na le ntlo, ntlo e tšoeu; u ka e bona
u le hole, e huloa ke likhomo ka mehatla. Joale he phahlo e
ngata ka ho eona. Joale matlo a bona ke matlo a maholo, a
phahlo tse ngata; lipitsa tsa bona ke tsa litšepe ; lethose ho
bona le lengata, le lifaha li ngata.

Joale he batho ba ntlo eo ba ne ba tloha, ba ea haha hosele.
Joale he ntlo ena e ntle e ne e sala ; joale morali oa teng a
hanela ho eona ; lebitso la hae ke Tselane. Joale he 'rn'a hae o
ba a 'na a mo tlisetse lijo. Ha a fihla, a re :

Tselane, ngoan'a ke ; Tsalane, ngoan'a ke,
Nka, nka bohobe, u je, Tselane, ngoan'a ke.
Joale ngoana a re :

Kea utloa, 'mè; kea utloa, 'me;
'Mè u bua sa nonyan'a thaha,
U bua sa tsoere e lutse lehlakeng.
Eaba Tselane oa tsoa, o nka bohobe, oa ja.

of L situngusobenhle is very much like it (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 74), as also are
the Kaffir tales of Demane and Demazana and The wondetful bird of the cannibal
(THEAL, op. cit. pp. Ill and 125). It contains many incidents which are found
in other Bantu tales.

2 This introduction has, it would seem, nothing to do with the story of Tse-
lane, but a very old man who gave me the version I print, assured me that it
was a constituent part of it. We have here a distorted account of the white
people before the Ba-Suto had actually seen them. The houses drawn by the
oxen with their tails would seem to mean the large travelling ox waggons of the
Boers.

64 FOLK-TALES

Now as it was a deserted village, there appeared a cannibal. He
called her, still carrying his bag, and said :
Tselane my child, Tselane my child,
Take, take this bread and eat, Tselane my child.
He was standing near the door. Now when she saw that it
was not her mother, but a cannibal, she shut the door. The
cannibal went round the hut, went round it, went round it, went
round it, but did not find any place where he could enter.1
Her mother came after the cannibal had left ; she said :
Tselane my child, Tselane my child,
Take, take this bread and eat ; Tselane my child.
The daughter answered :

I hear mother; I hear, mother.
Mother, you speak like the finch-weaver bird,
Like the sparrow that sits on a reed.
She gave her food ; she ate, the mother trying to entice her
saying : We have built a better hut than this one, a very beauti-
ful one. But the girl refused to leave that hut.

The cannibal kept on coming. After a time he devised some
cunning. He took a hoe and burned it. When it was hot and
had become red, the cannibal took it with pincers and swallow-
ed it. It went out by his anus.2 Now he went and said :
Tselane my child, Tselane my child,
Take, take this bread and eat, Tselane my child.
He was now speaking just like her mother. The girl answered
him, she said:

I hear, mother; I hear, mother.
Mother, you speak like the finch-weaver bird,
Like the sparrow that sits on a reed.
When she appeared at the door, the cannibal seized her and
put her in his bag.3 He rejoiced : To-day I have got meat. He
carried his bag, he carried it ; he went on. When he was at a
distance, he said :

Bag of Limo, speak, speak that I may hear.
Tselane said :4

What shall I, what shall I say, oh Limo ?

My father's cattle are numerous as the stars and the tsane grass, oh Limo!
The cannibal became hungry, and began to feel tired. He

1 The same incident is found in Demane and Demazana, as well as in the Zam-
bezi tale of Chinamina (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 55) and in a Hausa tale
(SCHOEN, Magana Hausa. p. 113) in which young kids refuse to open to a hyena
who pretends to be their mother. It reminds one of the popular European story
of The wolf and the seven kids. In the Zulu tale of The Girl and the cannibal (CAL-
LAWAY, op. cit. p. 142) a cannibal succeeds in inducing a maiden to open to him
by speaking in a feigned voice.

2 The stratagem of the cannibal to make his voice soft is rather strange ; in
Demane and Demazana he makes use of exactly the same trick.

Tselane 65

Joale ka hoba e se e le marakong, ha hlaha lelimo. Joale he
la 'mitsa, le jere mokotla, la re :

Tselane, ngoan'a ke ; Tselane, ngoan'a ke,
Nka, nka bohobe, u je, Tselane, ngoan'a ke,
Joale he o hlahile mona monyako; joale ha a bona hoba
hase 'm'a hae, ke lelimo, a koala. Joale la pota, la pota, la
pota, la hloka ka moo le ka kenang ka teng.

Joale 'm'a hae ha a e-tla, ha lelimo le se le khutlile, o re :

Tselane, ngoan'a ke ; Tselane, ngoan'a ke,
Nka nka bohobe, u je, Tselane, ngoan'a ke,

Joale ngoana o re :

Kea utloa, 'mè ; kea utloa, 'mè ;
'Mè u bua sa nonyan'a thaha,
U bua sa tsoere e lutse lehlakeng.
Joale he a mo nea lijo, a ja, a nts'a mo qeka, a re: Re hahile
ntlo e fetang ena, e ntle haholo. Joale he ngoana o hanetse
tlung ena.

Lelimo le ntse le e-tla. Joale mohlamong5 la batla bohlale.
Joale he la nka mohōma, la o besa. Joale ha o butsoitse, o re
tlere, lelimo la o nka ka matlao, la o metsa. Joale o tsoa ka
sebonong. Joale he la bitsa, la re :

Tselane, ngoan'a ke ; Tselane, ngoan'a ke,
Nka, nka bohobe, u je, Tselane, ngoan'a ke,
La bua joale ka 'm'a hae. Joale ngoana a le arabela, a re:

Kea utloa, 'mè ; kea utloa, 'mè ;

'Mè u bua sa nonyan'a thaha,

U bua sa tsoere e lutse lehlakeng.
Joale ha a hlahile monyako, lelimo la mo tšoara ; eaba le mo
kenya mokotleng. La thaba : Kajeno nama ke e fumane. Joale
he la jara, la jara, la tsamaea. Eitse ha le le hole, la re :

Khetsi ea Limo, kholoma, kholoma, re utloe.
Joale Tselane a re :

Ke ea kholoma, ke kholome ke re'ng ? oee Limo !

Khomo tseso li ka ka linaleli le joang ba tsane, oee Limo!
Joale la lapa, la ba la tšoaroa ke mokhathala. Joale he la fapo-

3 In the Zulu and Kaffir stories the cannibal also puts the girl in his bag ;
cf. also a Herero story told by Buttner (Zeitsch. fur afrik. Sprachen, I. p. I93)r
where an old woman does the same.

4 In the Kaffir story of The wondetful bird of the cannibal, the girl in the bag
sings also ; by this means she is recognised by her relatives and saved ; as also
in the Zulu story of Usitungusobenhle.

5 Mohlamong, is usually mohlomong; the full form would be mohla 0 mong, a
certain time. The form mohlamong, given here is very rarely heard.

66 FOLK-TALES

went to a village, put his bag outside, and entered the courtyard
of a hut. The daughter ot the house went out and saw that bag.
Now where the cannibal had turned in was at Tselane's mater-
nal uncle's. But the cannibal did not know. Now the girl who
had gone out saw a finger projecting through a hole in the
bag.1 She went back, entered the courtyard and told her mother :
Come and see a finger just like Tselane's. The mother went
out. She said : Who are you ? Tselane said : It is I, Tselane ;
I have been caught by the cannibal. The woman went back
and told her husband.

They said : Limo,2 will you go for us to the fountain ? He
said : Give me a pitcher. They gave him one with a hole in it,
telling him that he must stop it with clay.3 The cannibal went
to the fountain. Now they took a dog, took out Tselane and
put the dog in ; they took venomous ants and put them in ; they
fastened the bag, they fastened it.4

After a while the cannibal came back from the fountain. He
took his bag, put it on his back, and went away. After having
left the village he put it down, and shook it so that he might
hear whether Tselane was still there. He said :
Bag of Limo, speak, speak that I may hear.

The dog said :

What shall I, what shall I say, oh Limo ?

My father's cattle are numerous as the stars and the tsane grass, oh Limo !

He rejoiced, he put it on his back and went on ; he arrived at
his home. He said : That animal which was getting the better
of me, I have taken it to-day ; take the bag and put it in the
hut. They carried the bag, took it into the hut, and put it
down. It was to be opened on the morrow at cooking time.

They slept. Next morning the cannibal said to his wife:
Take my bag and cook. When the wife was taking hold of the
bag, the dog bit her. She came out and said : Limo, your bag
is biting, look at it. The cannibal became angry and said: I
will give you nothing of it, though I am always getting food for
you. He said to his daughter : Go and take the bag, we will
not give anything to her.

His daughter went in. When she was taking hold of the bag,
the dog bit her. As she tried to take hold of it at another place,

1 In Arbousset's version Tselane makes herself known to her relatives.

2 A cannibal is called lelitno ; Limo, an abbreviation of it, becomes as it were
his proper name ; it is as if we said Mr Cannibal.

3 The same trick is found in the stories of Usilungusobenhle and The wonder-
ful bird of the cannibal, as also (but in quite different surroundings) in a Zambezi
story (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 16).

Tselane 67

hela motseng o mong, la bea mokotla ntle, la kena ka lapeng.
Joale ngoanana oa lapa leo a tsoa, joale a fumana mokotla 00,
Joale moo lelimo lena le fapohetseng teng ke ha malom'a Tsela-
ne. Lelimo ha le tsebe. Joale ngoanana eno ea tsoileng, a bona
monoana o hlahile lesobeng la mokotla. Joale a khutla, a ke-
na ka lapeng, a joetsa 'm'a hae : Tlo, u bone monoana o kang
oa Tselane. Joale 'm'a hae a tsoa. Joale a re : U mang ? Joale
are: Ke 'na Tselane ; ke nkiloe ke lelimo. Joale mosali enoa
a khutla, a joetsa monna oa hae.

Joale ba re: Limo, ak'u re ele selibeng. Joale he a re:
Mpheng nkho. Ba mo nea e lesoba, ba re o tla e thiba ka le-
tsopa. Joale lelimo le ea selibeng. Joale he ba tšoara mpja ;
ba ntsa Tselane, ba kenya mpja ; ba nka litšutšulupa, ba li
kenya; ba tlama mokotla ona, ba o tlama.

Hamorao la khutla selibeng. Joale he la nka mokotla, la
jara, la tsamaea. La o bea hoba le tlohe hae, eaba lea o si-
sinya hore le utloe hobane o sa le teng Tselane. La re :

Khetsi ea Limo, kholoma, kholoma, re utloe.
Joale mpja e re :

Ke ea kholoma, ke kholoms ke re'ng? oee Limo!

Khomo tseso li ka ka linaleli le joang ba tšane, oee Limo !

La thaba ; la jara, la tsamaea, la ba la kena hae ha lona. La

re : Pholofolo eane e beng e ntlhōla, kajeno ke e tšoere ; nkang

mokotla ona, le o ise tlung. Ba kakasa mokotla ona, ba o isa

tlung, ba obea he. O tla lokolloa hosasane, ha ho so ho apehoa.

Hoa robaloa he. Hosasane ho itsoe ho mosali, ho thoe
Nka mokotla oa ka, ho apehoe. Joale mosali ha a re o tšoara
mokotla, mpja ea mo loma. A tsoa, a re : Limo, mokotla oa
hao oa loma, ak'u o bone. Joale lelimo la halefa, la re: Ke tla
u tima, ke ntse ke u sella. A re ho ngoan'a moroetsana : Tsa-
maea, u nke mokotla oa ka, re mo time.

Totahatsi 5 a kena. Joale he a re oa o nka, mpja ea mo loma.
Joale he a re o tšoara ka 'nge 'ngoe, litšutšulupa tsa mo loma

4 The incident of dogs, snakes, venomous ants, etc. put into the bag instead
of the person who has been rescued is extremely common in Bantu tales. It is
found (besides the Kaffir and Zulu versions of our tale) in Zambezi (JACOTTET,
Textes Soubiya, p. 20), Nyasaland (MACDONALD, op. cit. II, p. 345), Bondei (WOOD-
WARD, op. cit. p. 17), and Herero (Zeitsch.fiir afrik. Sprachen, I, p. 193) stories ; cf.
also CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 33, where the incident is a little different.

5 Totahatsi, girl, is a word borrowed from Kaffir (its Kaffir form is indodakazi)

68 FOLK-TALES

the ants bit her. Now the daughter came out, and said : Father,
your bag is biting. He said : Ha ! I will eat and give you
nothing.1

He went in, Limo. When he was taking hold of the bag he
was bitten. When he was taking hold of it again the ants bit
him. He said : Shut the door ! They made it fast with stones.
He opened the bag. As soon as the dog came out of it, it took
hold of him; the ants also took hold of him. He wept loudly,
crying: Open for me, that I may come out. They answered:
We told you that it bit, but you said it did not bite. Now he
beat the door down with his head, he ran away, he arrived at a
marsh, and went right into the marsh with his head down, his
feet pointing upward. He was then changed into a tree.

Now bees made honey there. One day Tselane had gone to
gather wood. She found honey in that tree. She took out some
honey, her hand stuck fast to the tree. The other girls went
home to tell of it. The men came, they came with an ox ; they
slaughtered it. They took its fat and melted it in a fire. Then
they anointed the hand of Tselane.2 She pulled it, it came out.
Then they left and went home.3

It is the end of the tale.

1 This feature of the cannibal wanting to eat alone, and being punished for
his greediness is found in most of the parallels given in the notes.

2 The same incident is found in Demane and Demazana 's story and in quite
a different Ronga tale (JUNOD, Contes des Ba-Ronga, p. 266). Some details being
rather indelicate, I had to leave them out.

3 Cannibalism is to-day unknown among South African tribes, and was
always so, with the exception of the period of fearful devastations caused by
Chaka from about 1820 to 1835, when some Ba-Suto and Zulu individuals and
clans resorted to it in order to save their lives. For* some years the Ba-Suto

Tselane 69

Joale he totahatsi a tsoa, a re : Ntate, mokotla oa hao oa loma.
A re : Ha ! ke tla ja ke le time.

A kena he Limo ; o itse ka re oa o tšoara, a longoa. O itse
ka re oa o tšoara, litšutšulupa tsa mo loma. A re : Koalang.
Joale ba katiela ka majoe. A o lokolla. Mpja eare ha e e-tsoa
ea mo tšoara, litšutšulupa le tsona tsa mo tšoara. Joale a ba a
bokolla, a re : Mpuleleng, ke tsoe. Ba re : Re itse re re oa
loma, uena u itse ha o lome. Joale he a heletsa ka hloho
monyako; a baleha, a fihla mokhoabong; joale a hlaba ka hlo-
ho fatše har'a mokhoabo, a lebisa maoto holimo. Joale he a
fetoha sefate.

Joale ha beela linotsi teng. Joale ka tsatsi le leng Tselane o
ilepatsing; joale a fumana linotši sefateng seo. Joale o re oa
ngoatha ; tsoho la hae la hanella. Joale baroetsana ba bang
ba ea bolela hae. Banna ba tla, ba tla le khomo. Joale he ba
e hlaba. Joale ba nka tšotso, ba e besa mollong. Joale ba
tlotsa letsoho la Tselane. Joale he oa le hula ; lea tsoa. Joale
ba tsamaea, ba ea hae.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetha.

malimo were greatly feared ; one of them even ate Peete, the grandfather of
Moshesh in 1824 or 1825. Moshesh succeeded in putting an end to that awful prac-
tice and in inducing the cannibals to return to their former life.

The cannibals in the tales have nothing in common with the real cannibals of
whom we have just written. They are more like the ogres of European tales
(cf. CVLLAWAY, op, cit. p. 155) ; in most Ba-Suto tales they are made to speak
Zulu. Cannibals or ogres of the same kind are met with in the tales of most
Bantu tribes. Cannibal stories are especially very frequent among the Ba-Ronga
and in Angola (where they are called Makishi).

70 FOLK-TALES

XI
MOSHANYANA OA SENKATANA *

There appeared a huge animal called Kholumolumo.2 It ate
the people, the whole nation. It went on eating the people,
swallowing them whole ; it swallowed the cattle too, and the
dogs and the fowls. It is said that there was a woman in child
sitting on the refuse heap ; she smeared herself with ashes*
Then she left the refuse heap and went into a calves' stable.
Now when the animal had eaten the people and finished them,
it was still looking about, and came to look in that stable.
There it found that woman, but it thought she was a stone, as
she smelt like ashes.

Then after a time it went away, having finished all the
people ; it went on and arrived at a mountain nek. It could not
go through that nek as it had eaten too much.

Now that woman stayed alone, and she gave birth to a child.
She went out and went to the kraal to get dry dung. The child
was a boy. When she came back she found that a full grown
man was sitting there, having his clothes on, and his spears. 3
The woman said : Hallo man ! where is my child ? He answered :
It is I, mother. His mother said : Why ! my child, I did not
know you. He said : And now, where are the people gone ?
His mother said : They have been eaten by Kholumolumo. —
And the cattle? — Also. — And the dogs ? —Also. — And the
fowls? — Also. — ■ Where is it? She said: Come out and see,
my child.

I This tale was first published by Casalis in 1841, under the title of Kammapa
ct Litaolane (Etudes, p. 96). In the Revue des Trad. pop. of 1888, I gave the two
versions reproduced here. The story of a huge animal which devours men and
animals is very common among the Bantu. On the Zambezi we have Seedinnve
(JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, pp. 54, 61 and 67), in Zululand Isikqukqumadevu
(CALLAWAY, op cit. pp. 58 and 84), among the Kaffirs the inabulele (THEAL, op.
cit. p. 79) and The great chief of the animals (ibid. p. 167), and among the Bushmen
the monster Xhwai-hemm (BLEEK, Brief Report, p. 8). Ogres, cannibals or
beasts swallow people in the same way in Ronga (JUNOD, op. cit. pp. 198 and
200), Kaffir (Theal, op. cit. pp. 129 and 161), Luyi (JACOTTET, Textes Louyi, p.
81), Ba-Suto (JACOTTET, Contespop. p. 204) and Hausa (SCHOEN, op. cit. p. 90)
tales. In all these cases people and animals are rescued, still living, from the belly
of the beast or man who has eaten them.

Moshanyana oa Senkatana 71

XI

MOSHANYANA OA SENKATANA

Ho no ho hlahe pholofolo ea tonana, ho thoe ke Kholumolumo.
Joale he eae-ja batho, sechaba kaofela. Joale sechaba e ntse
e se ja, e se metsa feela, le likhomo e li metsa, le limpja le li-
khoho. Joale ho thoe mosali enoa e ne e le moimana, a lula
thotobolong ; joale a itlotsa ka molora. Joale he a tloha thoto-
bolong, a kena serobeng. Joale ha e se e jele batho, e ba qetile,
e ntse e batla, e ea nyarela ka serobeng, e fumana mosali enoa
a le teng, empa e ka lejoe, kapa o na a nkha molora.

Joale he nakong e 'ngoe ea tloha, hoba e qete sechaba, ea
tsamaea, ea ea fihla lekhalong. Ea sitoa ho tsoa lekhalong ka
hobane e khotše haholo.

Joale ha sala mosali eo a inotši ; joale he mosali a beleha.
Joale a tsōa, a ea sakeng ho batla moiteli. Ngoana eo ke mo-
shemane ; joale ha a boea a fumana motho a se a lutse ka teng,
a na le likobo le marumo. Joale mosali enoa o na a re : Monna
tooe, ngoan'a ka o kae ? Joale o na a re : Ke 'na, 'me. Joale
'm'a hae o na a re : Jo bo ! ngoan'a ka, ke ne ke sa u tsebe.
Joale o na a re : Na batho ba ile kae ? Joale 'm'a hae o na a re :
Ba jeoe ke Kholumolumo. — Le likhomo ? — E. — Le limpja ?
— E. — Le likhoho ? — E. — E kae ? O na a re : Tsoa u bone,
ngoan'a ka.

Moshanyana oa Senkatana means a small, short boy. But Senkatana has become
almost a proper name. In Casalis' version he is called Litaolane (the little di-
vining bones), because he was born with divining bones round his neck.

2 Kholumolumo might perhaps mean big noise, but in that case it ought to
be Kholomolumo. In other versions he is called Khamapa (not Kammapa, as in
Casalis' books) or Khanyapa, which is the name said to be [given to a big fabu-
lous water serpent.

3 The boy is born with clothes and spears, and is able to speak as soon as
born. In the Ronga tale Nwamubia grows up in four or five days (JUNOD, op,
cit. p. 205). Cf. also the Sena tale of Kaskapaleza (Zeitschriftfur afrik. und ocean
Sprachen, II, p. 245). Uhlakanyana (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 6; THEAL, op. cit.
p. 85) of Zulu and Kaffir folklore and Sudika-Mbambi in an Angola tale (CHATE-
LAIN, op. cit. p. 91) beat this, as they speak even before they are born.

72 FOLK-TALES

Now the child went out and stood on that stable ; the mother
also climbed on it. She pointed out to him, saying : Do you
see yonder in the nek? The child said: I see, mother. She
said : That object which is filling the nek, as big as a mountain,
that is Kholumolumo. He went back into the stable, took his
spears and said : I am going now to see that animal. His
mother cried and took him by the hand, saying : My child, do
not go to that animal, it will swallow you as it has swallowed
all the nation. — No, mother, you will see.

He went, came to a flat stone, and sharpened his spears. He
left there and went on. Now when the animal saw him, it
opened its mouth to swallow him. He went alongside it. Now
as it was unable to rise, he went round and arrived behind it,
while it was still opening its mouth. He took a spear and
stabbed it ; he took another and stabbed it. It lay down and
died.

Then he took his knife. A man cried: Do not cut me. He
left and began at another place • a cow made : Muu ! He left and
began at another place; a dog barked: Koee ! He left and began
at another place. Kokolokoloo ! cried a hen. This time he
persisted and opened the belly of that animal. All the people
came out of it, also the cattle.1

They went back to their villages, saying : This boy is now
our chief. Now this boy was living with those men. After a
while they hated him ; they made a plan to kill him. All the
nation were hating him.2 They planned saying: Let us take
hold of him, kindle a big fire in the public court, and throw him
into it. When he came they said to him : Chief, come and sit
down here. He said: No, I sit down here. He sat down. They
looked at each other, those men. When they tried to seize him,
he escaped them, and they took another man and threw him
into the fire. As for him, he was standing there, and said :
What are you doing to that man ?3

Now they said : What shall we do ? They dug a hole. When
they had dug that hole they put straw over it, and over the straw
they placed an old mat. When he came they said : Chief, come
and sit clown here ; chief, come and sit down here. He came ;

1 The incident of people and animals crying in the body of the animal when
it is about to be opened is very much liked by the story tellers ; cf. CALLAWAY,
op. cit. p. 55. In the Zambezi tales of Seedimwe and Singalamba (JACOTTET, Tex-
tcs Soubiya, p. 61 ; Textes Louyi, p. 81) it is a little bird which rescues the people
in opening the belly of the animal or man who has swallowed them. It is the
same in a Kaffir story (THEAL, op. cit. p, 134).

2 The boy deliverer of whom people are envious, and whom they try to kill,

Moshanyana oa Senkatana 73

Joale ngoana o na a e-tsoa he, a ema holimo ha serobe ; 'm'ae
le eena a hloa. Joale a mo supisa, a re : Ua bona mola lekha-
long? Ngoana are: Kea bona, 'mè. A re: Ntho eane e thibi-
leng lekhalo, e kang thaba, ke eona Kholumolumo. A khutla, a
boela ka serobeng, a nka marumo a hae, a re : Ke sa ea bona
pholofolo eane. Joale 'm'a hae o na a 11a, a mo tšoara, a re :
Ngoan'a ka, u se ke ua ea nthong eane, e ea u metsa joale ka ha
e metsitse sechaba. — Che, 'mè, ke tla bona.

A ea, aflhla letlapeng, a leotsa lerumo ; a tloha, a tsamaea.
Joale he eitse ha e 'mona, ea ahlama hore e tla mo metsa. Joale
he a tsamaea thōko le eona. Joale ka hoba e sitoa ho tloha a
e pota, a ea kamorao, e ntse e ahlamisitse molomo. Joale he
a ntša lerumo, a e hlaba ; a ntša le leng, a e hlaba. Ea robala
fatse, ea e-shoa.

Joale he a ntsa thipa; motho a re : U se ke ua ntšeha. A
tlohele, a qale 'nge 'ngoe, khomo e re : Muu ! A tlohele, a qale
'nge 'ngoe, mpja e re : Koee ! A tlohele, a qale 'nge 'ngoe : Koko-
lokoloo ! kekhoho. Joale he a tiisetsa, a e phunya mpa. Batho
kaofela ba tsoa, le makhomo.

Ba boela ka metse ea bona, ba re : A moshanyana enoa, ke
morena oa rōna. Joale he moshanyana enoa a 'na a tsamaea
bathong bana. Hamorao ba mo hloea ; joale ba mo rerile ho
'molaea. Joale sechaba kaofela se se se mo hloile. Joale ba
rera, ba re : Re tie re mo tšoareng, re bese mollo oa motonana
khotla, re mo akhele teng. Joale ha a e-tla, ba re : Morena, tlo
u lule ka mona ; tlo u lule ka mona. Joale a re : Che, ke lula
ka mona. Oa itulela. Joale he ba talimane, ba talimane he
banna bana. Joale he ba re ba mo tšoara, a phonyoha ho bona,
ba nke monna osele, ba mo akhele ifo. Joale o nts'a erne mona,.
a re : Motho le mo etsa'ng ?

Joale ba re : Ho ea etsoa joang ? Joale ba cheka mokoti.
Joale ha ba chekile mokoti, ba bea matlakala ; joale ba ba ba
bea tsesana holimo ha matlakala. Joale ha a e-tla, ba re : Mo-
rena, tlo u lule ka mona ; tlo u lule ka mona. Joale he a tie,

is found everywhere. In Bantu folklore the nearest parallel is the Ronga tale
of Ngumba-Ngumba (JUNOD, op. cit, p. 200), where Bokenyane is driven away
by his brothers ; cf. also the Angola tale (CHATELAIN, op. cit. p. 91) where Su-
dika-Mbambi is treated in almost the same way as Senkatana ; cf. also JUNOD, op.
cit. pp. 162 and 282.

3 The devices by which the people try to kill Senkatana are found in many
parallel stories.

74 FOLK-TALES

the seat of the chief was there ; he sat down there. He sat
clown, that young boy. They were expecting to see him fall
down, but he did not fall down.

They said : What can be done ? They said : We must throw
him down a precipice. So on a certain day they planned to
throw him down a precipice. They had made a plan, and said :
Come and see what is at the bottom ; let the chief also come
and see. He went in front of them. They said : This time we
will throw him down. They arrived at the precipice ; as they
tried to push him, he escaped them, and they threw down an-
other man. He said : Why do you throw that man down ? They
said: Pe ! Now they were sad. He went down to that man,
took hold of him and made him stand up.

They said : What must be done ? He was going round all the
villages, but all the villages had made a plan to kill him. After
he had made a tour of the villages, he arrived at the last village.
They said: It is right. They made a plan; they decided to
have a big hunt. At the place where they were going to sleep,
they said that he should sleep at the back part of the cave.
Then they gathered, they gathered, they gathered much wood ,
there was much of it.

When he was asleep, they heaped the wood on both sides;
leaving no space open. Then they kindled it. He said to
them : What a big fire you have made ! Now they were glad
and said : To-day we have worsted him. He rose and said:
What a big fire you have made ! They laughed and said : To-
day he is lost. He rose, went out and stood in their midst.
They seized him. He did it purposely. They killed him. It is
said that his heart went out and escaped, and became a bird.1
Now this is the end of the tale.

I Cf. Masilo and Masilonyane and Nyopakatala (JACOTTET, Contes pop. p. 112).
In Casalis' version Senkatana goes to live in the desert with his mother.

Moshanyana oa Senkatana 75

tulo tsa morena ejbe tsena, morena a lule mona. Joale he mo-
shanyana oa Senkatana ebe oa lula. Joale ha ba ntse ba
lebeletse hoba oa oela, a se ke a oela.

Ba re : Ho ka etsoa joang ? Ba re : Ho ka khona a liheloe.
Joale he mohlamong ba rera selomo, hore ba ke ba mo lihele.
Joale he ba ne ba entse mokhoa, ba re : A le ke le tl'o bonang
katlase, le morena a tie ho bona. Joale o na a etella pele. Ba
re : Kajeno rea mo lihela. Joale ha ba fihla holim'a selomo, ba
re ba mo susumetsa, a fapane le bona, ba lihele osele. A re:
Ka baka la'ng ha le lihela motho ? Ba re : Pe ! Joale ba soabe ;
joale a theohe he, a ee ho eena ; joale a mo tšoare, a mo emise.

Ba re : Na ho ea etsoa joang ? O nts'a tsamaea le metse, empa
metse kaofela e se e mo rerile. Joale he ha a se a tsamaile
metse haholo, joale motse oa qetello a fihla teng. Ba re : Ho
lokile. Joale he ba mo rera joalo he ; joale ba etsa letšolo.
Joale he moo ho robetsoeng, ba re a robale mane motseo oa
lehaha. Joale he ha roalloa, ha roalloa, ha roalloa patsi ; ea
e-ba kholo.

Joale ha a robetse ho hahuoe patsi ka 'nga tse peli, a hloki-
soa le monyako. Joale he ba chesa. Joale a botsa, a re : Le
entse mollo o kakang ! Joale ba thaba haholo, ba re : Kajeno
re mo hlōtse. Joale a tsoha, a re : Le entse mollo o kakang !
Ba tšeha, ba re : Kajeno o lahlehile. A tsoha he ; eaba oa tsoa,
o ema ho bona. Joale ba mo tšoara, a etsa ka boomo, ba 'rao-
laea. Joale he ho thoe pelo ea hae ea tsoa, ea baleha, ea ea
linonyaneng.

Joale he ke tšōmo ka mathetha.

7b FOLK-TALES

XII

MOSHANYANA OA SENKATANA l

The people were very numerous. Now Kholumolumo came
and ate them. A woman went into a calves' stable, and gave
birth to this child, a boy. Then she said she was going to fetch
some dry dung for him. He said : Mother, what are you going
to do with the dung ? She said : I am going to spread it out as a
couch for you. Then he asked : Mother, where have the people
gone ? She said : They have been eaten by Kholumolumo. He
said : Where is it ? She said : Over yonder.

Now he took his spears ; she said : My child, where are you
going ? you are still but small. He said : I am going to kill it.
He went. He drew near ; Kholumolumo put out its tongue when
it saw him ; he cut the tongue. It put out another tongue, again
he cut this one also. It put out a third tongue ; now he killed it
with his spear; it died. He stabbed it in the belly ; a man cried
inside it : Do not pierce me. He stabbed again a second time,
a dog barked. He stabbed again the belly of Kholumolumo, a
goat bleated. A man cried : Do not kill this goat. He stabbed
again, and wounded an ox ; a man cried : Do not kill this ox-
Kholumolumo died ; the people came out of it.

When they had come out, a man gave an ox to Moshanyana
oa Senkatana. Another one gave him an ox too. He became
their chief, he governed them. He used to herd his cattle him-
self. Now they dug a hole for him ; they wanted to kill him,
because he governed them though still but a boy.

Now yonder in the veldt, he asked this ox of his, Tololi-
phatšoa,2 — it is the name of its praise song ; he asked it :
Tololi-phatšoa, what is the matter to-day? The ox answered '•
Over yonder, they want to kill us ; yonder at home they have
dug a hole where you are in the habit of sitti ng down ; refuse to
sit there.3 They arrived home ; the people said : Come and sit

I This second version is mostly interesting in its second part, viz. the story
of the ox which returns to life. Parallel stories are in Zulu Ubongopa-kamaga-
dhlcla (CALLAWAY, op. tit. p. 22I* and The ox which returned to life ( Folk-Lore Jour
nah II, p. 22), and in Kaffir The Gqongqos atid Qajana (TORREND, Comparativ

Moshanyana oa Senkatana 77

XII
MOSHANYANA OA SENKATANA

Batho ba ne ba le bangata ; joale Kholumolumo ea tla, ea
fihla, ea ba ja. Joale mosali e mong a kena ka serobeng ; joale
a beleha ngoana eo, ngoana e le moshanyana. Eaba o re o mo
nkela moiteli. 'Me a re : 'Mè, moiteli u o isa kae ? A re : Ke
tla alia uena. Joale a re : 'Mè, sechaba se ile kae ? Eaba o re :
Se jeoe ke Kholumolumo. Eaba o re : Na e kae ? A re : Ke eane.

Eaba o nka marumo ; eaba o re : Ngoan'a ka, u ea kae, athe u
monyenyane ? A re : Ke ea e bolaea. Eaba oa tsamaea. Eaba
oa fihla ; e ntša leleme ha e 'mona, a khaola leleme. Joale ea
ntsaleleng; joale a e bolaea ka lerumo, eaba ea shoa. Joale
o hlaba mpeng, motho a re ka har'a eona : U se ke ua ntlhaba.
A boela a hlaba hape, ntja ea 11a. A boela a hlaba mpeng ea
Kholumolumo, poli ea 11a. Eaba motho o re : U se ke ua hlaba
poli. Eaba o hlaba khomo, motho a re : U se ke ua hlaba
khomo. Eaba ea shoa, batho ba tsoa.

Eitse ha ba e-tsoa, motho e mong a nea moshanyana oa Se-
nkatana khomo. E mong a boela a mo nea khomo. Joale ea
e-ba morena, a ba busa. Joale oa li lisa khomo tsena tsa hae.
Joale ba mo chekela sekoti, ba re ba tla 'molaea, hobane a busa
a le monyenyane.

Joale khomo ena ea hae, naheng koana, a e botsa; lebitso la
hae ke Tololi-phatsoa, ke lithoko tsa eona. A e botsa, a re :
Tololi-phatšoa, litaba ke life. Eaba e re : Koana ba re re ea
bolaoa ; koana hae ho chekiloe sekoti moo u lulang teng, u tie
u hane ho lula teng. Joale ba ne ba fihla hae ; ba ne ba re :
Tlo u lule mona, morena. Joale ka hobane khomo e 'moleletse

Grammar of Bantu languages, p. 305), which are however different in many partic-
ulars.

2 Tololi-Phatšoa, the black ox with white stripes and spots.

3 The ox has evidently a magical power as in the stories quoted above.

78 FOLK-TALES

down here, chief. Now as the ox had told him in the veldt
what they were about, he said : I shall not sit here. They asked :
Where will you sit down ? He said to one of them : Sit down
yourself, I shall sit down where you are sitting now ; as for you,
you must sit down where you say I must sit down. He took him
away by force, because he was stronger than them. They went
out.

He went again to herd ; he was herding his cattle again next
day. Now some men of another village arrived near him, and
saluted him. He said : Good morning ! They said : Will you
not give us this ox of yours ? He refused, they insisted, he re-
fused. They said : We are going to kill you. Now he said :
You may take it ; you may drive it away. Now as they tried to
drive it, they were driving their own companions, they were
driving each other towards the village. They said : Our friend,
how is your ox to be driven ? They said to him : Drive it for us.
He helped them to drive it ; he went with them to their home.

They arrived and put it in the kraal ; they tried to stab him.
But when they were trying to stab him, they stabbed one of
themselves. They said : Sing to it that we may stab it ; you see
that we are stabbing one another. So they stabbed it ; it died.
Now they wanted to cut it in pieces. When they were beginning
to flay it, they were flaying one of themselves. Now they said :
Our friend, sing to your ox. He said : Tololi-phatsoa allow
yourself to be flayed. It consented ; they finished flaying it.

Now they wanted to carry the meat and to cut it in small
pieces. But they were cutting some of themselves. They said :
Oh ! our friend, speak to your ox. He said : Tololi-phatšoa, do
consent to be cut in small pieces. Now they wanted to gather
the pieces of meat, but they were gathering some of themselves.
They told him : Oh ! our friend, speak to your ox. He said :
Tololi-phatšoa, consent to your pieces being gathered. It con-
sented ; they gathered the meat.

They took it to the enclosure before the hut, and began to tell
the women : Wash the pots. But they were washing each other.
They said : Oh ! our friend, speak to these pots, that we may
wash the pots in which to cook your ox. He said : Oh ! Tololi-
phatsoa, allow them to wash the pots and to cook you. Now
they wanted to cut the meat and put it in the pots on the fire,
but they were taking some of the men and putting them into the
pots. They said: Oh! our friend, speak to your ox, that we
may cook it well. He said : Oh ! Tololi-phatšoa, allow these
people to cook you well.

They cooked it ; it was ready. They dished the meat out and
wanted to distribute it ; but when they were beginning to give
the meat to the people, they were taking one of them and giving
him to another one. They spoke to him : Chief, speak to your

Moshanyana oa Senkatana 79

litaba naheng, a re : Ha ke lule teng. Ba re : Na u tla lula kae ?
A re : Che, lula mona, ke lule moo u lutseng teng ; uena u lule
moo u reng ke lule teng. O na a mo tlosa ka matla, ka hobane
o na a ba hlōla. Joale ba tloha.

Joale o alositse hape ; a li lisa hape hosasa. Joale banna ba
bang ba motse o mong ba fihla ho eena, ba mo lumelisa. A re :
E. Ba re : Na u ke ke ua re nea khomo eo ea hao ? O na a
hana ; ba ne ba mo qophella ; o na a hana. Ba ne ba re : Re
tla u bolaea. Joale a re : Le ka e kuka, la e khanna. Joale ba
ne ba e khanna, ba khanna bahabo bona, ba ikhanna, ba ea
hae. Joale ba re : Molekan'a rōna, khomo ea hao e khannoa
joang ? Joale ba ne ba re ho eena : Re khannele eona. A ba
khannela eona. O na a ea le bona hae, ha habo bona.

Ba ne ba fihla, ba e hlahlela sakeng, ba e hlaba. Joale ha
ba qala ho e hlaba, ba hlaba e mong oa bona. Ba ne ba re : E
rokele, re tsebe ho e hlaba, hobane ke mona rea hlabana. Joale
ba ne ba e hlaba ; joale ea e-shoa. Joale ba ne ba e rala ; ba
ne ba qala ho e bua, ba ne ba bua e mong oa bona. Joale ba
ne ba re : Oho, mokan'a rōna, rokela khomo ea hao. O na a
re : Tololi-phatšoa, lumela ha ba u bua. E ne e lumela he,
ba e qeta.

Ba ne ba e thota joale, ba ne ba e ratha. Joale ba ratha ba
bang bahabo bona. Ba ne bare: Oee ! mokan'a rōna, bua
le khomo ea hao. O na a re : Tololi-phatšoa, lumela hie ba u
rathe. Joale ba ne ba e bokella, ba ne ba bokella ba bang
bahabo bona. Ba ne ba re ho eena: Oee! mokan'a rōna, bua
le khomo ea hao. O na a re : Tololi-phatšoa, lumela hie ba u
bokelle. E ne e lumela, ba e bokella.

Ba ne ba e fihlisa ka lapeng, ba ne qala ho re ho basali : Hla-
tsoang lipitsa. Ba ne ba hlatsoana. Joale ba re : Oee ! mokan'a
rōna, bua le lipitsa tsena, re hlatsoe lipitsa tsa khomo ea hao.
O na a re : Oee ! Tololi-phatšoa, lumela hie ba hlatsoe lipitsa,
ba u apehe. Joale ba ne ba e seha, ba ne ba e kenya ifo
pitseng ; ba ne ba nka batho ba bang, ba ba kenya ka lipitseng.
Ba ne ba re : Oee ! mokan'a rōna, bua le khomo ea hao, re e
apehe hantle. O na a re : Oee ! Tololi-phatšoa, lumela hie
ba u apehe hantle.

Joale he ba e pheha ; joale ebe ea butsoa. Ba e tšola, ba re
ba ea e aba ; ba qala ho fa batho ; joale ba qala ho nka e mong
oa bona, ba mo nea motho e mong oa bona. Joale ba bua
le eena, ba re : Morena, bua le khomo ea hao, e lumele ha re

8o FOLK-TALES

ox, that it may allow us to eat it. It consented. They wanted
to give him some meat ; he refused. All of them ate of the
meat, all the people of the village, with their children. Then
they pegged the skin on the ground.

Next day he arose, took his spears from the reed enclosure,
and went out by the gate. He came to the skin and stroked it
with his stick, saying : Tololi-phatsoa, let us go home, let us go to
our place. It arose with its body quite whole ; its bones also
returned to it.1 All the people who had eaten it died, with their
children and their dogs.2 He went away. He arrived at the
home of his parents. He asked : Tololi-phatšoa, what do you
hear when you are walking so ? It said : All is right where we
go. They went on and arrived at the home of his parents.

Now his mother said : My child, are you still in good health ?
He said : Yes. She gave him bread. He went to the kraal
with his ox. The ox said : Do not eat that bread. He said :
Why should I not eat it ? It said : Your mother has put poison in
it. So he refused to eat it. Now his mother had gone to the
gardens. The father of Senkatana took that bread and ate it.
He died. Now the ox said : You see, you would have died
yourself ; your mother does not love you.3

XIII
MASILO AND THAKANE 4

Masilo wanted much to marry his sister Thakane. Thakane
said : I am your sister. Masilo said : Among all the people

1 In the Zulu and Kaffir parallel stories the ox is slaughtered and his flesh
cooked but not yet eaten ; the boy resuscitates it when the people have gone to
the river to bathe. In another Zulu story ( Folk-Lore Journal, II, p. 26) the ox
does not return to life, but the ancestral spirits (amadhlozi) come and eat its
flesh while the people are bathing in the river.

2 In a Luyi story (Jacottet, Textes Louyi, p. 51) all the people who have
eaten of a bird die likewise.

Moshanyana oa Senkatana 8 1

e ja. Joale e ne e lumela. Joale ba ne ba re ba mo sehela, o
na a hana. Ba ne ba e ja kaofela, bona beng ba motse ona, le
bana ba bona. Joale ba ne ba thakhisa letlalo.

Joale hosasa o na a tsoha, a nka marumo a hae holim'a seo-
tloana ; a tsoa ka monyako. O na a fihla pePa letlalo, o na a
otla letlalo ka molamu, o na a re : Tololi-phatšoa, a re ee hae,
a re ee ha eso. E ne e tsoa ka 'mele oa eona, masapo a eona
a boela ho eona. Batho ba e jeleng ba ne ba shoa kaofela, le
bana ba bona, le lintja tsa bona. O na a tsamaea ; a fihla ha
habo. O na a re : Tololi-phatsoa, u 'no u tsamaee, u 'no u
utloe. Ea re : Ho ntse ho lokile moo re eang teng. Joale ba
ne ba tsamaea ho ea fihla ha habo.

Joale 'm'ae a re: Ngoan'a ka, u sa phela hantle na ? O na a
re : E. O na a re, a mo fe bohobe. O na a ea ka sakeng ka
khomo ea hae. Joale e ne e re : U se ke ua bo ja. A re : Na
ke se ke ka bo ja ka baka la'ng na ? Ea re : 'M'ao o u tseletse
sehlare. Joale o na a hana ho bo ja. Joale 'm'ae o ile masi-
mong ; joale ntat'ae a Senkatana a bo nka, a bo ja. Joale a
shoa. Joale khomo ea re : Ua bona he, ho ka be ho shoele
uena ; 'm'ao ha a u rate.

XIII
MASILO LE THAKANE

Masilo o na a rata haholo ho nyala Thakane, khaitseli'e.
Joale Thakane o na a re : Ke khaitseli ea hao. Masilo o na a

3 The mother is as much afraid as the rest of the people of the supernatural
power of Senkatana ; such a being is too dangerous to live.

4 This tale has, as a whole, no exact parallel known to me in African folk-
lore, but some of the incidents of which it is made up often recur in Ba-Suto or
other Bantu tales.

82 FOLK-TALES

there is none like you.1 On a certain day when the cattle had
gone to pasture, there was a feast. The maidens had also gone
to gather wood. Masilo said to Thakane : Come, I shall show
you wood fit for a chiefs daughter. Thakane went there.2

Masilo turned the maidens who were going with Thakane
back. They went alone ; he had already looked out a cleft in
the rocks. They arrived near it. He said to Thakane : Have
you really refused definitely to marry me ? Thakane said : I
will never consent to marry my brother. — Do you still say so
to-day ? You see we are by ourselves ; I shall kill you. Tha-
kane said : Even if you kill me, I will not consent to be married
to my brother. Then Masilo threw her down and bound her.
He asked her again : Do you not see that to-day you are going
to die ? She said : Even if I am to die, I will not consent to be
married to you, because you are my brother. So he threw her
down into the clett. Then he went away, leaving his sister in
the cleft where he had thrown her.

The cattle returned home ; Thakane was looked for, the other
maidens were questioned. They said : She was there. But it
was an affair which frightened them. The maidens said to
one another : If only it could be told that we saw her when she
was called by Masilo ; as for us, we were going with her, but
Masilo kept us back ; she went away with Masilo, and when
Masilo came back to the cattle he was walking alone. They
looked for her in all villages, as far as her grand-mother's. —
No, we have not yet seen her here. The people continued to
wonder, for they did not know where she had gone.

Masilo was herding every day. He kept saying : Stay with
the cattle, I am going to lay snares for my bird.3 He was contin-
ually doing so till the second month began. Now on a certain
day his brother said : What kind of bird is it, that one which is
never caught ? Masilo was always going there ; when he arriv-
ed, he took one of the hard milling stones, he knocked on the
cleft with it saying :4

1 The Ba-Suto are as strict as, if not stricter than, most European nations
in forbidding marriage between people nearly related to one another. Incest
is unknown among them. Here we have not to think of a real marriage, as
Masilo well knows it is out of the question ; he wants his sister to misconduct
herself with him.

2 In other versions the first part of the tale is quite different. Masilo and
Thakane have gone to a village across the river ; it rains heavily during the
night and the rivers are flooded. Masilo when leading Thakane across the river
lets her go ; she alights on a small island in the middle of the river. It is there
that Masilo comes to mock her. The tale of Monyohe, which we give below (no.
XVIII) begins exactly in the same way. The version given in the text comes
from a very old man, who gave it to me many years ago.

Masilo and Thakane 83.

re : Har'a batho ha ho motho e motle joale ka uena. Joale mo-
hlomong ho no ho aloha makhomo, ho le mokete. Joale baroe-
tsana ba ne ba ee patsing le bona. Joale Masilo o na a re ho
Thakane : Tlo, ke tla u joentša patsi e ntle haholo e tsoane-
tseng ngoan'a morena. Joale he Thakane o na a ea.

Joale Masilo o na a hanela baroetsana ba tlang le Thakane.
Joale ba ne ba ea ba babeli, a se a 'nile a lekola lephao. Joale
ba fihla pel'a lona. O na a re ho Thakane : Na u fela u hanne
ha ke u nyala ? Thakane o na a re : Nke ke ka ba ka lumela
hobane ke nyaloe ke khaitseli. — Na le kajeno u sa rialo na ?
Ua bona re babeli, ke tla u bolaea. Thakane o na a re : Leha
u ka mpolaea, nke ke ka lumela hobane ke nyaloe ke khaitseli.
Joale he Masilo o na a 'meta, a mo tlama. Joale a 'motsa, a re :
Ua bona, kajeno u ea shoa ? Joale eena a re : Leha nka shoa,
nke ke ka lumela hoba ke nyaloe ke uena, hoba u khaitseli ea
ka. Joale he a mo lihela lephaong. Joale he a tloha, a siea
khaitseli'e lephaong ha a mo lihetse.

Joale he makhomo a orohile, ho batliloe, ho botsitsoe le
baroetsana ba bang. Ba re : O na a le teng. Joale he ea e-ba
taba e batlang e tšabisoa. Baroetsana ba bang ba re : Hojane
ho ka boleloa hoba ke rōna ba 'moneng ha a bitsoa ke Masilo,
rōna re be re ea le eena, Masilo a re thibela ; e sa le ba ea le
Masilo, ha Masilo a boela likhomong, ke moo a s'a itsamaela a
inotsi. Ha batloa metse kaofela, ho flhloa ha nkhono'ae. —
Che, ha a e-s'o bonahale mona. Joale ha luloa ho maketsoe,
ka hobane ha ba tsebe moo a ileng teng.

Joale Masilo o nts'a alosa ka matsatsi. Joale o re : Salang
le tsona likhomo, ke sa cheha nonyana ea ka. Joale ha ba ha
thoasa khoeli ea bobeli a nts'a etsa joalo. Joale mohlomong mo-
shanyana oabo o na a re : Na nonyana e sa tšoasoeng ee ke
nonyana e joang ? Joale Masilo o na a ea moo, joale a fihle, a
nke lejoe lena ho thoe ke tšetlo ea morallana. Joale a otle ka
holimo ho lephao; a re:

3 The stratagem by which Masilo contrives to be left alone is very common
in these tales.

4 Thakane' a Maliakhomo means Thakane daughter of Maliakhomo. Malia-
khomo means blood of an ox. In the other versions Masilo's song is different ;
it reads so :

My mother's Thakane, my mother's Thakane oa 'mè, Thakane oa 'mè,

[Thakane,
There in the water you slept with the Le moo metsing u He ua lata le likhala,

[crabs,
The big hippopotamus slept with the Kubu e lale le kujoana.
[small one.
Thakane's answer is such that it cannot properly be given here.

84 FOLK-TALES

Thakane a Maliakhomo, speak, speak that I may hear.

She said :

What shall I, what shall I say ?

My brother Masilo wanted to marry me ; I refused.

Then Masilo went back rejoicing very much.

Now in the second month his brother said : What kind of a
bird is it ? Masilo said : Stay here with the cattle, I am going
to lay snares for my bird. He went to his bird yonder. The
boy followed him, he went stealthily. Masilo arrived. The
boy also went on, going slowly and slyly. The elder brother
arrived, put his shield down, and took a stone : thud ! He said :
Thakane'a Maliakhomo, speak, speak that I may hear.

Now the voice of Thakane had become very weak, it did not
answer him loudly. The boy heard and said : Oh ! oh ! Masilo
always says he is coming to lay snares for a bird, whereas
he has killed my sister. He went away stealthily ; Masilo
did not see him.

He arrived at the cattle before him. He sat down, crying
continually. The other boys went to Masilo and told him :
Your brother is crying there, we do not know why ; he does
not tell us anything. Masilo asked him : What ails you,
brother ? — My bowels ache. — Your bowels ache ? — Yes.
He told two young men to take him back home.

His mother cried much when she saw he had been crying
and that his eyes were red. His mother said : My child,
what ails you ? Do you not see I also am continually crying
on account of your sister ? He said : Call father. His mother
said : What do you call him for, my child ? — My bowels ache
dreadfully. His father came. When the father had arrived,
the boy said : Mother, father, let us go into the hut. They
went into the hut ; he cried much, his parents also cried. —
Oh child ! what kind of bowel ache can it be ? He said :
Father, mother, Thakane has been killed by Masilo. They
said: In what way? What have you seen? He said: Thaka-
ne has been killed by Masilo, I can take you to where he
has killed her.

They left at dusk; they went, being three including the
boy. He said : Father, the stone will be too heavy for me.
Presently he said : Father, there is the stone, take it and
strike with it, saying :

Thakane'a Maliakhomo, speak, speak that I may hear.

His father arrived, took the stone, and did so ; it was al-
ready dark. He heard the voice, already weak, of his daugh-
ter. He lay down on his stomach, looked into the cleft,
and called, saying : Thakane ! She said : Father ! — How did
you get here, my child ? — It was Masilo who threw me in.
— What must be done ? What must be done ? They did not
know what to do.

Masilo and Thakane 85

Thakane a Maliakhomo, kholoma, kholoma, ke utloe.

Joale a re :

Ke ea kholoma, ke kholome ke re'ng ?
Masilo oeso o itse oa 'nyala ; ka hana.

Joale he Masilo a khutle, a thabile hantle haholo.

Joale moshemane oabo ka khoeli ea bobeli a re : Na nonyana
eo e joang ? Joale Masilo a re : Salang le likhomo, ke sa cheha
nonyana ea ka ; joale a tsamaea ho ea koana nonyaneng ea
hae. Joale he moshemane eo a mo sala kamorao, a tsamaea
ka sephiri. Masilo a ba a ea fihla. Joale moshemane o ea tla
a nts'a nanya ka sephiri. Joale moholoane oa hae a fihla, a
bea thebe, a nka lejoe : thuu ! Joale a re :

Thakane 'a Maliakhomo, kholoma, kholoma, ke utloe.

Joale lentsoe le se le fokotse, joale le se le sa arabe haholo.
Joale moshemane a utloa, a re : Khili ! Masilo o ntse a tla ho
cheha nonyana, anthe o bolaile ngoan'eso. A khutla ka sephi-
ri, Masilo a se ke a 'mona.

Joale o na a fihla pele likhomong ; joale o nts'a 11a, a lutse.
Joale ba ne ba re ho Masilo, ba re : Ngoan'eno ke enoa a Hang,
ha re tsebe, ha a re joetse letho. Masilo a 'motsa : U jeoa
ke'ng, ngoan'eso ? — Ke jeoa ke mala. — U jeoa ke mala ? —
E. O na a re ho bahlankana ba babeli ba 'musetse hae. Joale
ba ne ba mo isa hae.

Joale 'm'ae o na a 11a haholo, ha a 'mona a Hile, mahlo a re
tlere. Joale 'm'ae o na a re : Ngoan'a ka u jeoa ke'ng, ha ke sa
11a le 'na ka baka la khaitseli ea hao ? O na a re : Ak'u bitse
ntate. Joale 'm'ae o na a re : U 'miletsa'ng, ngoan'a ka ? — Ke
jeoa ke mala haholo. Ntat'ae o na a e-tla. Joale ntat'ae ha a
fihla, o re : 'Mè, ntate, a re keneng tlung. Ba ne ba kena tlung ;
a 11a haholo, babo ba 11a hahoho le bona. — Na, ngoana, ke
mala a joang ! O na a re : Ntate, 'mè, Thakane o bolauoe ke
Masilo. Ba ne ba re : Ka mokhoa o joang ? U bone'ng ? A re :
Thakane o bolauoe ke Masilo, nka le isa moo a 'molaetseng teng.

Ka phirimana ba ne ba tloha, ba tsamaea ba bararo le mo-
shanyana oa bona. O na a re : Ntate, lejoe le tla ntšita. Joale
a re : Ntate, lejoe le teng, u tie u le nke, u otle ka lona, u re :

Thakane 'a Maliakhomo, kholoma, kholoma, ke utloe.
Joale he ntat'ae a fihla, a nka lejoe, a etsa joalo, ka phirimana.
A utloa lentsoe le se le fokotse la morali ea hae. Joale a paqa-
ma, a nyarela, a bitsa, a re : Thakane ! A re : Ntate. — U kene
joang moo, ngoan'a ka ? — Ke Masilo ea nkentseng mona. —
Ho ea etsoa joang ? Ho ea etsoa joang ? Ha ba na kamoo ba
ka etsang.

86 FOLK-TALES .

The father said to his wife : Will you not be afraid if I
leave you here and go home ? She said : I shall not be afraid,
you will find me just here. The father went home. She
said : Tell the people at home that it is very far down ; take
riems, take fat. It was the mother who spoke so. The fa-
ther took twenty men. He lay down on his stomach a sec-
ond time, and spoke with his daughter, saying : Will you
not be able to fasten the ropes round yourself ? Some must
be on the legs, some on the arms under the armpits. She
said : I may do it, but my arms are tightly pinned by the
cleft.

They threw the riems down ; she put them on her, she put them
on her, she put them on her, she put them on her. Presently
she said : I have put them all on. — When we begin to draw
you up, do not lie down, try to stand up. She said : I am
unable to stand up. They said : If you are unable to stand
up, we must warm some fat and pour the fat down in the
cleft. They did so that when they were going to draw her up it
would be easy so that she might not slip down.1 They pulled at
the ropes, she came up, she came up, she came up. Presently
they had drawn her up. She was very thin. They laid her
on the flat stone. After a while the men carried her on their
backs, they went on, taking turns. At last they arrived home.
Now the food she had to take was fat, that it might moisten
her throat.

Next morning Masilo was herding. A young man had been
present when Thakane was taken out. Now he said : I shall
go and see if it is really he who has thrown Thakane. That
young man went stealthily, he arrived and sat down. Masilo
arrived, put his shield down,2 and took a stone : thud ! He
said :

Thakane a Maliakhomo, speak, speak that I may hear !

There was no sound. He said : Do you still refuse ? He
struck again with stones : thud !

Thakane a Maliakhomo, speak, speak that I may hear!

There was no sound, all was silent. He took his shield :
Haa ! He rejoiced, he said : Now she is dead. He went away,
and returned to the cattle, rejoicing; he played his flute, he
said : She is dead to-day. He arrived. The men looked at
him and said : Masilo is a wicked person.

The father took a sheep and slaughtered it, so that Thakane
should drink gravy. The cattle came back to the village.

I Fat is poured down in order to render the sides of the cleft s mooth and
slippery.

Masilo and Thakane 87

Ntat'ae a re ho mosali : Na u ke ke ua tšaba ha ke le siea
mona, ke ea hae ? Joale o na a re : Nke ke ka tsaba, u tla be u
mphumane hona mona. Joale ntat'ae o na a ea hae. Joale o
na a re : U tie u bolelle batho ba hae hoba ke tlase halelele, u
nke marapo, u nke mafura ; ke 'm'ae. Joale o nkile batho ba
mashome a mabeli. Joale ntat'ae o na a boela a paqama, a
bua le eena, a re : Na u ke ke ua tseba ho itlama ka marapo ?
a mang a be maotong, a mang a be matsohong, ka tlase ho
mahafi. Joale o itse : Nka etsa, empa matsoho a ka a patisitsoe
ke lephao.

Joale he ba isa marapo, a 'na a ikenya 'ona, a 'na a ikenya
'ona, a 'na a ikenya 'ona, a 'na a ikenya 'ona. Joale a re : Ke
a kentse kaofela. — Ha re qala ho hula u se ke ua rapalla, u
leke ho ema, O na a re : Nka sitoa ho ema. Joale ba re : Leha
u sitoa ho ema, joale ho ka khona ho futhumatsoe mafura, joale
re tšèle mafura ka teng. Joale etlere ha ba hula ba re ho be bo-
releli, a se ke a phochoha. Ba tiea ka marapo, a 'na a nyoloha,
a 'na a nyoloha. Joale he ba ne ba mo nyolla, a be a se a otile.
Ba 'mea mona letlapeng. Joale hamorao ba mo pepa banna
bana, ba tsamaea, ba phomotsana ka eena, ba ba ba kena hae.
Joale ntho eo a tšoanetseng ho e ja ke mafura, a kolobise
'metso.

Joale he hosasane Masilo o alositse. Joale mohlankana e
mong o ba a le teng ha ho ntšuoa Thakane. Joale he le eena
o re : Ke tla ea ho tseba hore na ke eena ka sebele-bele ea
kentseng Thakane. Mohlankana enoa a nka sephiri, a ba a
fihla moo, a itulela ; Masilo a fihla, a bea thebe fatše, a nka
lejoe : thuu ! a re :

Thakane 'a Maliakhomo, kholoma, kholoma, ke utloe.

Ha re nyele. A re : U sa le khang ! A eketsa ka majoe : thuu !

Thakane 'a Maliakhomo, kholoma, kholoma, ke utloe.
Ha re nyele, ha khutsa. A nka thebe : Haa ! a thaba, a re :
Joale he o shoele. A khutla he, a boela likhomong a thabile,
a letsa phala, a re : O shoele kajeno. Joale a fihla ; banna ba
mo talima, ba re : Masilo ke motho e mobe.

Joale ntat'a hae o tšoere nku, o e hlabile hore Thakane a 'ne
a phoke moro. Joale he li fihle likhomo ; joale Masilo a lebelle,

2 In olden time Ba-Suto herds were always armed when herding the cattle
on account of the ever recurring wars.

88 FOLK-TALES

Masilo waited, waited, waited long; at last he said: Let the
sheep's head come out. He sent a man : Tell father to give
me some meat. The father said : The sheep's head has been
eaten by me. Masilo got no meat. He was always herding
the cattle ; he did not know that Thakane had been found.
The people wondered, saying : How can Masilo be so joyful
when his sister is dead ?

They went on bathing Thakane with hot water, they went
on bathing her. After a while she tried to lean on the hut
and to stand up ; her muscles made qoqo, qoqo ; she stood up,
she stretched herself out. She stood up, leaning on the hut.
Presently she was able to speak, and told her father and mo-
ther how Masilo had treated her. She was now eating meat
and nice dishes. Her father was continually slaughtering
sheep ; the skins were handed to the young men, they dressed
them and hid them, they dressed them well. At dusk she used
to go out with her mother ; they walked, they went on their
private business.

She was fat now, she was as before. Now her father and
mother cut their hair because it was already very long.1 They
anointed themselves with fat, they grew fat. The people said :
They have mourned, now they are comforted, to-day they are
dressing themselves. Then the father said to a man : Go yonder
and say to my wife's people that they are to come ; I am going
to have a feast ; oho ! my father-in-law must also come.

Cattle were slaughtered ; he prepared a big feast with much
food. Now when the cattle had been slaughtered, there at the
feast the food was given to the people. He told his people
and his parents-in-law : To-day I have finished mourning, I have
finished mourning, I am comforted ; let mats be spread in the
public place. The people were sitting at the food, eating. The
father, the mother and the grandmother of Thakane said to her ;
Come out. Thakane came out. When she went out the sun
was darkened on account of her ornaments, because she shone
with them.2 The people said : What is it ? We see Thakane.
Now her brother Masilo fled, he went to a far away tribe.
Now the tale is finished.

I When in mourning the Ba-Suto allow their hair to grow, and they do not
anoint their bodies as ordinarily. Thakane's father cutting his hair and anoint-
ing his body is a sign that he has ceased mourning.

Masilo and Thakane 89

a lebelle, a lebelle, a re : Hloho ha e tsoe. A rome motho : Ea
re ntate a ntsehele nama. Joale ntat'ae a re : Hloho ke e jele.
A hloke nama. Joale o nts'a alosa ; ha a tsebe hoba ntho ena
e thotsoe. Batho bana ba 'ne ba tsote, ba re : Na Masilo ha
khaitseli ea hae a shoele, le eena o thabile ?

Joale he ba 'ne ba mo thobe, ba 'ne ba mo thobe. Hamorao
mohlamong a itšoarelle ka ntlo, a erne, mesifa e ne e re qoqo,
qoqo; a ema, ea otloloha. Joale he a erne, a itsoarelle ka
ntlo. Joale a tsebe ho bua ; joale a bolelle ntat'ae le 'm'ae
kamoo Masilo a mo entseng kateng. Joale he o nts'a e-ja nama
le lijonyana tse ling tse monate; ntat'ae a 'n'a hlabe linku, joale
li 'ne li neoe bahlanka, ba 'ne ba li suhe matlalo, ba be ba li
koahele ; joale ba be ba li lokise. Joale ere ka phirima a tsoe
le 'm'ae, ba tsamaee, ba ee mohlabeng.

Joale o nonne, o joale ka pele. Joale 'm'ae le ntat'ae ba
ikute moriri, ka hobane e ne e le lihlotho tse kholo. Joale ba
tlole mafura, ba none. Batho ba re : Ba llile, joale ba tetse ;
kajeno ba itokisa. Joale ntat'ae a re ho motho : E-ea mane
bohoeng ba ka ho re ba tie, ke tla etsa mokete ; oho ! le mohoe-
hali oa ka a tie.

Joale he ho hlabiloe likhomo, a etsa mokete o motle o nang
le li jo. Joale ha ho hlabiloe moketeng mona lijo li tsoe ; a re
ho batho le ho bahoehali: Kajeno ke llile, kajeno ke llile, ke
tetse ; ake le nkalle meseme patlellong. Batho ba lutse lijong
ba e-ja. Ntat'ae le 'm'ae le nkhono'ae ba re : Tsoa. Thakane
a tsoa ; ha a tsoa letsatsi la re fl ke lijana, ka hobane oa benya.
Ba re : Hili ! ha rea bona Thakane ?3 Eaba ngoan'abo oa ba-
leha, Masilo, a ea chabeng se hole.

Joale ke tšomo ka mathetha.

2 The darkening of the sun at the appearance of a beautiful maiden is a
feature most popular with Ba-Suto story tellers. Here it is explained that her
ornaments were so beautiful that they outshone the sun.

3 Ha rea bona Thakane ? Sit. have we not seen Thakane ? meaning: We have
seen her, we see her.

90 FOLK-TALES

XIV
BULANE AND TSELANE '

They say there were people called Ba-Tloung ; in their tribe
they did not practise polygamy.2 Now a certain man, the son
of a chief, married his head wife. Afterwards he desired to
marry a second wife. Once when his head wife had gone home
for childbirth, the husband went and told her : I am going to
marry. Her parents said : If you marry you must liberate our
daughter; you know well that as for us, we do not practise
polygamy. He said : I will not now marry a second wife.

He left and went to the summer pastures. When he was in
the summer pastures, on a certain day as he was herding, he
saw something which was shining near a fountain at a distance.
He went there. When he came near, he found that they were
girls; what was shining were their anklets. He came up to
them, and said : Where do you come from ? They said : We
have come to the summer pastures. He asked : The summer
pastures of whom ? — Of Bulane. He said : You are my wives.3
They said : You have already a wife. He said : I have but one
wife, but forsooth, I am a chiefs son, and it is not right for me
to marry but one wife. He said : Let us go to the herding hut.
They went, and arrived there.

Bulanyane said: My brother, you have already a wife, you
must give me this wife. That woman was also the daughter of
a.chief. Bulanyane said to Bulane : You know that you have
married your cousin, and so it is not right for you to marry another
wife. Bulane refused to listen to him, saying : As for me, I am

1 I possess another version of this tale, but with fewer incidents, where the
woman is called Mokhali oa Monoto. This is an example of a series of tales, com-
mon in all countries, in which a certain action has not to be taken, or a certain
food has not to be eaten; if the taboo is broken through the person who has brok-
en it is changed into another person, an animal or a lifeless object, or else dies. For
another representative tale of this class cf. our story of Seilatsatsi oa Mohalc
(No. XXVII) where the parallel incidents will be given.

2 The Ba-Tloung (lit. the elephant people) have the elephant as their seboko
(clan name) or totem. It is in accordance with that seboko that the woman
becomes an elephant. Scattered members of the clan of the Ba-Tloung still
exist in Basutoland. Does the reference to a defence of polygamy point to an
old tradition or is it merely an incident of the tale itself? It is difficult to decide.

Bulane and Tselane 91

XIV
BULANE LE TSELANE

Ba re e ne e re e le Batloung, joale ha habo ho sa nyaloe
sethepu. Joale monna e mong, e le ngoan'a morena, joale a
nyala mosali oa pele. Joale a boela a lakatsa ho nyala oa
bobeli. Joale ka mohlomong mosali oa hae e moholo o ile ho
beleha ; joale monna oa hae a ea ho eena, a mo joetsa hobane
kea nyala. Babo ba re : Ha u ka nyala, u lese ngoana oa rōna,
ka hoba re ne re u joetse, ra re, na ha u le ngoana oa morena
u nyalla'ng ngoana oa rōna ; athe ua tseba hobane rōna ha re
nyale sethepu. Joale a re : Ke ke ke ka nyala joale.

Joale a tloha, a ea meraka. Ha a le meraka, ka tsatsi le leng
a alositse, a bona ntho e 'ngoe selibeng, a le hole, e benya ;
joale a ea. Ha a atamela, a fnmana hobane ke baroetsana, ho
benya tsela. Joale a fihla ho bona ; eaba o re : Na le tsoa kae ?
Ba re : Re tlile merakeng. Eaba o re : Merakeng ea mang ? —
Ea Bulane. Joale eaba o re : Le basali ba ka. Eaba ba re : U
na le mosali. Eaba o re : Ke na le mosali a le mong, homme
ke ngoan'a morena, ha kea tsoanela ho nyala mosali a le mong.
Joale a re : A re eeng sebesong. Joale ba ea, ba fihla.

Bulanyane a re : Ngoan'eso, hobane u na le mosali, u tšoane-
tse ho 'nea mosali enoa. Le eena mosali eo e be e le ngoana
oa morena. Bulanyane a re ho Bulane : Ua tseba hobane u
nyetse motsoal'ao ; joale ha ua tšoanela ho nyala sethepu.
Bulane a liana, a re : 'Na kea nyala. U bona mosali oa ka ha

As far as I know, no such tradition is known to-day, and polygamy seems always
to have been practised by all Bantu tribes without any question ever arising as
to whether it was right or wrong. This is the only trace known to me of its
being considered wrong.

3 In the story there is something like a discrepancy ; here we have two
women at least whom Bulane marries, whereas in the rest of the narrative men-
tion is only made of one. It was formerly the custom for girls to go and present
themselves to the young men whom they desired to marry (in Se-Suto such girls
are said to iketa, lit. to go themselves to their future husband) ; many instances
will be found in other stories. Nowadays this custom is practically unknown in
the country.

92 FOLK-TALES

going to marry her. You see that my wife is beautiful, and so
you want me to give her to you, but I refuse. I am a chief, it is
proper for me to marry many wives. Bulanyane said : Have
you sent away the first one ? He said : No, I did not send her
away. — Are you not aware that our maternal uncle refused to
give her to you? — Yes, but nevertheless I am going to marry
this one.

Then he sent a man to let his father know that the cattle were
to return home to-day. His father told the people that the
chief was coming home to-day. But Bulane did not inform his
father that he had found wives, because he knew that he would
not be allowed to keep them as it was not their custom to marry
more wives than one. Now Bulane gave orders to his servants
that no one should speak about that matter, saying if any one
were to speak of it, he would kill him.

He then sent word to his father that his head wife should be
sent for ; his wife had already a little girl. The wife's father
said : I am bringing her. The messenger returned and came
back to the summer pastures, saying : Your wife's father said
that he was going to bring her. Bulane said : Let the cattle
leave the pastures and go home. They went. Bulane followed
behind them. At evening, when the cattle were nearing the
village, he said : I shall come after a while ; because he was
afraid lest the people should see his wives. The sun set when
he was still in the open.

At dusk he arrived home, and went with them into his own
hut, the chief's hut, not into his head wife's hut. He called his
sister Thakane and said : Come and sweep nry hut. She swept,
but she did not know that her brother had other wives. She
asked, saying: Bulane, why do you sleep to-night in this hut?
He said : It is because I have just arrived ; moreover they refuse
to bring my wife.

Now Thakane, Bulane's sister, went to her father and said :
Father, Bulane says that his wife must be sent for just now. So
his father, Rabulane,1 sent to fetch Bulane's wife. Bulane's wife
came. On the day she arrived, Bulane did not go even to salute
her. All the people of Rabulane's village did not know that
Bulane had other wives. Only his companions knew; his brother
Bulanyane knew also, but he was afraid to speak because Bula-
ne was his elder.

I Rabulane signifies Bulane's father; 'Mabulane, Bulane's mother. It is the
ba-Suto custom tc call a father or a mother by the name of one of their children

Bidane and Tselane 93

a le motle, joale u rata hobane ke u nee eena, empa kea hana.
Ke morena, ke tšoanetse ho nyala basali ba babeli. Bulanyane
are: Na u lahlile oa pele na ? Are: Che, ha kea mo lahla. —
Hleka ua tseba hobane malome o ba a hana le eena na ? — E,
empa leha ho le joalo kea nyala.

Joale a romela motho ho ea tsebisa ntat'ae hore likhomo li ea
koeba kajeno. Joale ntat'ae a joetsa batho hobane morena o
tla hae kajeko. Empa Bulane ha a ka a tsebisa ntat'ae hobane
o thotse basali, ka baka la ho tseba hobane a ka haneloa le
bona, hobane e be e se mokhoa oa bona ho nyala sethepu. Joale
Bulane a laela bahlankana ba hae hore ho se ke ha e-ba motho
ea ka bolelang litaba tseo, a re, ea tla bolela litaba tseo o tla
'molaea.

Joale a romela ho ntat'ae hore ho latoe mosali oa hae e mo-
holo, mosali oa hae a se a e-na le ngoana oa ngoanana. Joale
ntat'a mosali a re : Kea mo tlisa. Joale motho eo a khutla, a
boela meraka, a re : Ntat'a mosali o itse oa mo tlisa. Joale
Bulane a re : Khomo a li koebe, li ee hae. Joale tsa ea. Bulane
a sala kamorao. Mantsiboea ha likhomo li se li atametse pel'a
motse, a re: Ke tla tla kamorao ; hobane o ba a tsabisa basali
ba hae hore batho ba ka ba bona. Tsatsi la ba la likela a
nts'a le naheng.

Ka phirimana a fihla hae, a kena le bona ka tlung ea hae ea
borena ba hae, e seng ho ea mosali e moholo. Joale a bitsa
Thakane, khaitseli ea hae, a re: Tlo, u fiele mona. Joale a fiela,
a mpa a sa tsebe hobane khaitseli ea hae o na le basali. A bo-
tsa, are: Bulane, kajeno u robala tlung ee ke'ng ? A re: Ka
hobane ke sa fihla; hape ba hana le mosali oa ka.

Joale Thakane, khaitseli ea Bulane, a ea ho ntat'ae, a re :
Ntate, Bulane o re ho latoe mosali oa hae hona joale. Joale
ntat'ae, Rabulane, a romela ho ea lata mosali oa Bulane. Mosali
oa Bulane a tla. Kaofela ba motse oa Rabulane ba ne ba sa
tsebe hobane Bulane o na le basali. Empa ho no ho tseba
thaka tsa hae feela ; le ngoana'abo, Bulanyane, o na a tseba
taba tsena, a mpa a tšaba ho bolela, hobane Bulane e be e le e
moholo.

(usually the eldest one), in prefixing to it the words Ra, father of, or 'Ma (Mma)
mother of. We have followed this custom in our translation.

94 FOLK-TALES

After a time, Bulane said that his new wife should be brought
into the hut of his head wife. But Bulane's head wife refused,
and said : No, Bulane, it is not right for you to marry that
woman. Now Bulane said : I must build her a hut ; both of you
shall be my wives. Bulane's head wife, whose name was Tse-
lane, said : Bulane, you must take me to my father's, because
you have another wife. Then Bulane said: Let us go.

When they were on their way, the wife said : I am thirsty.
Bulane said : Go on, there is a fountain near here. She arrived
at the fountain, she drank, she left. They went on. When they
had gone a little distance, still near to the fountain, she said
again : I am thirsty. Bulane said : Stay here, I am going to
fetch you water. He went, arrived, drew water for her, came
with it, came to her. She drank. Bulane looked at her and
found that she was turning yellow. He began to remember the
words of his maternal uncle when he married her, and said :
My uncle refused me because I was going to marry another
wife.1

They were still sitting ; the wife refused to go on. She kept
on turning yellow. Bulane said : Let us go, let us go to the
village. When they were near the village of Tselane's father,
Tselane sat down and wept. She asked Bulane to go and draw
water for her from the watercourse. When Bulane came back,
he found that his wife had turned into an elephant, and was stand-
ing on an antheap.2 Bulane said : Is it really so that my wife has
become an elephant ? He began to be sad, because he knew
that he had been told that he was not to marry another wife, for
if he married another one his first wife would become an elephant.

He went to the antheap. Tselane went away, being an
elephant, she ran away. The people of the village saw her and
came running, crying : Here is an elephant. Bulane said : It is
my mother's daughter, she has become an elephant. Her re-
latives began to see her, so also did her little daughter. It ran
away, that elephant; it went and entered a reed thicket, joining
other elephants there. Bulane went to the village, calling aloud :
Tsee, tsee, Tselane ; tsee, tsee, Tselane ;
It is my mother's daughter, she has become an elephant.

He arrived at the village. His wife's father said: Because
you have done so purposely you deserve to be killed. But the
people did not allow him to do so.

1 From this passage it appears that Masilo's first wife was the daughter of
his maternal uncle ; the wife, not Bulane, belonged to the Ba-Tloung clan.

2 Metamorphoses of human beings into animals are numerous in the tales of
all nations. In another Ba-Suto story (No. XLII) Masilo is changed into a

Bulane and Tselane 95

Joale kamorao Bulane a re ho isoe mosali oa hae lapeng la
hae. Joale mosali oa Bulane e moholo a liana, a re : En-en,.
Bulane, ha ua tšoanela hobane u nyale mosali enoa. Joale Bu-
lane ke ha a re : E ka khona ke mo hahele ntlo, le be basali ba
ka ba babeli. Joale mosali oa Bulane e moholo, lebitso la hae
ke Tselane, joale a re : Bulane e ka khona u nkise ha eso, ka
hobane u nyetse mosali e mong. Joale Bulane o ba a re : A re ee.

Ha ba le tseleng, mosali enca oa hae a re : Ke nyoruoe. Bu-
lane a re : Tsamaea, seliba se se se le haufi. Joale a fihla
selibeng, a noa, a tloha. Ba tsamaea. Ha a sa le thōkonyana,
haufinyane le seliba, a boela a re : Ke nyoruoe. Bulane a re :.
Lula mona, ke u khelle. A ea, a fihla, a mo khella, a tla le 'ona,
a fihla, a noa. Bulane a mo shalima, a fumana a se a le mose-
hlana. A qala ho hopola litaba tsa malom'ae mohla a mo nya-
lang, a re : Malome o na a hana ka ho tseba hobane ke tla nyala
mosali e mong.

Joale ba ntse ba lutse, mosali o sa hana ho tsamaea. A 'na
a phehella ho ba mosehlana. Bulane a re : A re tsamaee he, re
ee hae. Eitse ha ba se ba le haufi le motse oa habo Tselane,
eaba Tselane o lula fatše, a 11a. Eaba o re Bulane a ee ho mo
khella metsi ka lengopeng. Bulane, eitse ha a khutla, a fuma-
na mosali oa hae a fetohile tlou, a erne seolong. Bulane a re :
Na ekaba mosali oa ka o fela a fetohile tlou ? A qala ho soaba,
ka hoba o ba a tseba hobane o boleletsoe joalo, hobane a se ke
a nyala sethepu, hobane ha a ka nyala sethepu mosali oa hae o
tla fetoha tlou.

Joale a ea seolong ; Tselane a tloha e se e le tlou, a baleha.
Batho ba motse ba 'mona, ba phalla, ba re : Tlou ke eo. Joale
Bulane a re : Ke ngoan'a 'mè eo, o fetohile tlou. Joale babo ba
qala ho 'mona, le ngoana oa hae oa ngoanana. Ea baleha
tlou ena, ea ba ea fihla, ea kena lehlakeng ho tse ling. Bulane
a ea hae, a ntse a hoeletsa, a re :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane; tsee, tsee, Tselane,
Ke ngoan'a 'mè eo, o fetohile tlou.
Joale a fihla hae. Ntat'a mosali oa hae a re : Ka hobane u
entse ka boomo, u tsoanetse ho bolaoa. Joale batho ba hana.

zebra; in a Ronga tale (JUNOD, Les Ba-Ronga, p.303) Sikhulume also becomes a
zebra. In two Luyi stories (JACOTTET, Textes Louyi, pp. 11 and 67) women are
changed into trees (cf. also our tale of Seilatsatsi, No. XXVII).

96 FOLK-TALES

At a certain time his little girl went to the gardens to drive
away the birds. As she was standing over a mound, she saw
elephants coming out of the reeds ; an elephant was in front of
them. She said :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane ; tsee, tsee, Tselane.
Oh! elephant in front who looks like my mother Tselane,
The daughter of Mokhali oa Monoto.i
She said again a second time :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane; tsee, tsee, Tselane.
Oh! elephant in front who looks like my mother Tselane,
The daughter of Mokhali oa Monoto.
The elephant came, it passed before the garden, it jumped, it
stood up, it said :

I am your mother, I am your mother,
I have been badly treated by your father, your father,
He said he was going to marry an inferior wife,
Whereas an inferior wife must not be married.
The girl wept when she heard it was her mother. She went
home, still weeping; she arrived. Her grandmother asked her:
Why do you cry, my grandchild ? She said : Something has
gone into my eye. But she was only afraid of telling her grand-
mother that she had seen her mother in the open country.

In the morning her grandmother said : My grandchild, do not
go to drive the birds away, as something has hurt your eye. But
she refused saying : I am going. She went early, she arrived,
and sat on the mound. The elephants arrived, that one being
in front. When she saw them, she stood up on the mound, and
cried with a loud voice :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane; tsee, tsee, Tselane.
Oh! elephant in front who looks like my mother Tselane,
The daughter of Mokhali oa Monoto.
They stood, the elephants ; the one in front jumped up and

said :

I am your mother, I am your mother,
I have been badly treated by your father, your father,
He wanted to marry an inferior wife,
A beloved wife, a beloved one, child of my mother.
They came, the elephants; they arrived, they plucked sweet
reeds, made bundles of them, and went away. When they were
returning, the girl said again a second time:
Tsee, tsee, Tselane; tsee, tsee, Tselane.
Oh ! elephant in front who looks like my mother Tselane,
The daughter of Mokhali oa Monoto.
It turned back, it looked at her, it said :
I am your mother, I am your mother,
I have been badly treated by your father, your father,

I In another version Bulane's wife is called Mokhali oa Monoto, whereas here
she is Mokhali oa Monoto's daughter.

Bulane and Tselane 97

Ka mohlomong ngoanana oa hae a ea masimong ho ea tsosa.
Eitse ha a ntse a lutse holim'a sefika, a bona litlou li e-tsoa
lehlakeng; joale tlou e 'ngoe e li eteletse pele. Joale a re :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane; tsee, tsee, Tselane ;

Tlou ela e pele e kang 'me Tselane,

Morali oa Mokhali oa Monoto.
A boela a pheta hape are:

Tsee, tsee, Tselane ; tsee, tsee, Tselane ;

Tlou ela e pele e kang 'me Tselane,

Morali oa Mokhali oa Monoto.
Joale ea tla tlou, e tla feta pel'a tšimo ; ea tlōla, ea ema, ea re :

Ke 'na 'm'ao, ke 'na 'm'ao;

Ke entsoe ke rar'ao, ke rar'ao,i

A re o nyala tlhakoana,

Tlhakoana e sa nyaloe.
Ngoanana a 11a ha a utloa hoba ke 'm'ae. A ea hae a nts'a
11a, a fihla hae ; nkhono oa hae a 'motsa, a re : U llela'ng, ngoa-
n'a ngoan'a ke ? A re : Ke fahluoe ; athe a mpa a tšaba ho
bolella nkhono'ae seo a se boneng naheng.

Joale ka hosasane nkhono'ae a re : Ngoan'a ngoan'a ke, u se
ke ua ea tsosa, hobane u fahluoe. A mpa a hana, a re : Kea ea.
A ea e sa le hosasa, a fihla, a lula sefikeng. Tsa tsoa litlou e
li eteletse pele. Joale ha a li bona, a ema holim'a sefika, a
hoeletsa ka lentsoe le phahameng, a re :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane ; tsee tsee, Tselane ;
Tlou ela e pele e kang 'mè Tselane,
Morali oa Mokhali oa Monoto.
Joale tsa ema ; ea tlōla ena e ka pele, ea re :

Ke 'na 'm'ao, ke 'na 'm'ao ;
Ke entsoe ke rar'ao, rar'ao,
A re o nyala tlhakoana,
Tlhakoana ea leseo,2 ea leseo, ngoan'a 'me.
Joale tsa tla litlou, tsa fihla, tsa e-kha ntšoe, tsa etsa mangata,
tsa tsamaea. Eitse ha li khutla, a boela a eketsa ngoanana, a re :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane ; tsee, tsee, Tselane ;
Tlou ela e pele e kang 'mè Tselane,
Morali oa Mokhali oa Monoto.
Ea reteleha, ea mo sheba, ea re :

Ke 'na 'm'ao, ke 'na 'm'ao ;
Ke entsoe ke rar'ao, rar'ao,

2 Rare, is an old form, still found in Se-Chwana for ntate, my father.

3 Leseo means happiness (= lehlohonolo) ; Tselane will probably say that
the second wife is happy in having won Bulane's love.

98 FOLK-TALES

He wanted to marry an inferior wife,
A beloved wife, a beloved one, child of my mother.
The girl wept, she wept much. She arrived home. Her
father asked her : Why do you cry, my child ? She said : Al-
ways when I go to the gardens, I see my mother. He said :
Where is she ? She said : She is yonder in the reed thicket.

The father told the people, and said that the reed thicket was
to be surrounded. The people went in the early morning. The
girl said : When they are coming I shall tell you ; I shall sing to
it in the way I usually sing. They came. When they were
coming she climbed on the mound. She had given them this
direction : When they go back I shall do the same also. When
they came, she said :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane; tsee, tsee, Tselane.
Oh! elephant in front who looks like my mother Tselane,
The daughter of Mokhali oa Monoto.
The elephant jumped, stood still, and said :
I am your mother, I am your mother,
I have been badly treated by your father, your father,
He wanted to marry an inferior wife,
A beloved wife, a beloved one, child of my mother.
They heard it, the people who were staying there. The ele-
phants arrived, plucked the sweet reeds, and carried them away.
When they passed, the girl said again :
Tsee, tsee, Tselane; tsee, tsee, Tselane.
Oh! elephant in front who looks like my mother Tselane,
The daughter of Mokhali oa Monoto.
As they were just about to enter the reed thicket, Bulane,
standing at the entrance, took hold of it. It became a woman
again. She cried, asking to be left alone, that she might go back
to the elephants.1

They took her and brought her home. When she arrived
there, she stayed. Then Bulane sent to his father, saying : I
have found my wife, my inferior wife must be sent away. They
sent her away. After a while he returned home with his wife.
When they arrived, his wife gave birth to a child. Bulane gath-
ered the people to tell them that he had found his wife. A
feast was prepared, much beer was brewed ; Bulane ordered
cattle to be slaughtered. They were slaughtered. The people
ate and rejoiced because the chiefs wife had been found

again.2

It is the end of the tale.

1 In a variant one of the elephants helps Bulane to get back his wife.

2 For totemism and the eponymous animal cf. two very remarkable Ronga
tales (JUNOD, Contes des Ba-Ronga, p.253 and Les Ba-Ronga, p.353) in which the
life of members of a whole clan depends on the life of an animal (probably the

Bulane and Tselane 99

A re o nyala tlhakoana,
Tlhakoana ea leseo, ea leseo, ngoan'a 'me.
Joale ngoanana a ea hae, a 11a haholo. A fihla hae ; ntat'ae
a 'motsa a re: Na u llela'ng, ngoan'a ka ? A re: Ka mehla, ha
ke ile masimong, ke bona 'mè. A re : Na o kae ? A re : O teng
lehlakeng mane.

Joale ntat'ae a bokella batho, a re ho likoe lehlaka. Joale
batho ba ea e sa le hosasa. Eaba ngoanana o re : Etlare ha
li tla, ke tla le joetsa ; ke tla rokela ka mokhoa oo ke 'neng ke
rokele ka oona. Tsa tla. Eitse ha li tla, a hloella holim'a se-
fika, a ba a hlile a ba laela hore : Etlere leha li khutla, ke tla
'ne ke etse joalo. Eitse ha li tla, a re :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane ; tsee, tsee, Tselane ;
Tlou ela e pele e kang 'mè Tselane,
Morali oa Mokhali oa Monoto.

Ea tlōla, ea ema, ea re :

Ke 'na 'm'ao, ke 'na 'm'ao ;

Ke entsoe ke rar'ao, rar'ao,

A re o nyala tlhakoana,

Tlhakoana ea leseo, ea leseo, ngoan'a 'mè.
Ba utloa batho bao moo ba lntseng teng. Tsa fihla, tsa e-kha
ntšoe, tsa roala. Ha li tsamaea, a pheta ngoana a re :

Tsee, tsee, Tselane ; tsee, tsee, Tselane ;

Tlou ena e pele e kang 'mè Tselane,

Morali oa Mokhali oa Monoto.
Eitse ha li re li fihla li kena lehlakeng, Bulane a erne monya-
ko, a e tšoara ; eaba e se e fetoha motho. A 11a, a re a tloheloe,.
a ipoelle ho litlou.

Joale ba mo nka, ba mo isa hae. Ha a fihla hae, a lula. Ea-
ba Bulane o romela ho ntat'ae hoba : Mosali oa ka ke mo fuma-
ne, e ka khona ho tebeloe eo e monyenyane. Joale kamorao a
ea hae le mosali oa hae. Ha a fihla, mosali oa hae a beleha.
Bulane a bokella batho ho ba tsebisa hobane mosali oa hae o
mo fumane. Joale ha etsoa mokete, ha riteloa majoala ; joale
Bulane a re likhomo li hlajoe. Tsa hiajoa. Ha jeoa nama ke
batho, ha thajoa hobane ho bonoe mosali oa morena.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

eponymous animal of this clan). I know of nothing of the kind among the Ba-Suto,
but the eponymous animal is either not killed and eaten by the members of its
clan, or else it is only eaten under certain conditions.

100 FOLK-TALES

XV

THE BIRD THAT EXCRETES MILK1

'Mamasilo had invited people to come and help her to make
a new field. In the evening they went home. A bird came and
stood on the ploughed ground, and sang :

Tsoili, tsoili, little garden of 'Mamasilo, become again unploughed ground.

The garden became again unploughed ground. Next day
when 'Mamasilo came she could not see where they had plou-
ghed it ; it was again unploughed ground. They ploughed
again ; in the evening they went home. The bird arrived and
sang :

Tsoili, tsoili, little garden of 'Mamasilo, become again unploughed ground.

The garden became unploughed ground.

Next morning the woman said : I shall lie in ambush for that
thing which annoys me. So in the evening she lay down among
the sods ; they covered her with the sods ; she left her hand
outside. The bird arrived, stood on her hand and sang :

Tsoili, tsoili, little garden of 'Mamasilo, become again unploughed ground.

She caught it as it was sitting on her hand ; it thought it was
a bush.

So she took it, and went home with it. On the way, she said :
I shall prick-prick you in your hind parts. The bird said : Don't
prick-prick me in my hind parts ; I shall excrete-excrete thick
milk for you. Now it excreted thick milk for her ; she ate it
on her way. She arrived home, took again a bit of dry grass,
and said : I shall prick-prick you in your hind parts. — Don't
prick-prick me in my hind parts ; I shall excrete-excrete thick
milk for you, so that you may eat your fill with your children
and your husband. Then she took a pot, it filled it with thick
milk ; she took another pot, it filled it also. They ate.

Next morning they went to the gardens. The little girl of
the house stayed at home, and went into the hut. Now she
said to the bird : I shall prick-prick you in your hind parts. It
answered : Don't prick-prick me in my hind parts ; I shall excrete-

I The story of The bird that excre'.es thick milk (Senyamafi) is known also in
a Be-Chwana version (THEAL, op. cit. p. 39) which is exactly like ours, with the
exception of the end, in two Kaffir (Thsal, op. ci'. p. 29 and ToRR-iND, op. cit.
p. 296) and two Zulu versions (Callaway, op. cit. p. 99 The man and the bird,

The Bird that excretes milk 1 01

XV

NONYAN'A SENYAMAFI

'Mamasilo o na a etsa letsema, a khatha. Mantsiboea ba
tloha ; nonyana ea lula bolemeng, lekoteng, ea re :

Tsoili, tsoili, bolenyana ba 'Mamasilo, thite hlakana.
Eaba boa hlakana, ea e-ba thite. Hosasane a tla, a se ke a
bona moo ba neng ba lema ke hokae, e se e le thite. Ba boela
ba lema; mantsiboea ba ea hae. Ea fihla, ea re:

Tsoili, tsoili, bolenyana ba 'Mamasilo, thite hlakana.

Ba hlakana, ea e-ba thite.

Joale hosasane a re : Mantsiboea ke tla e lalla ntho ena.
Joale mantsiboea a robala har'a makote, ba mo apesa ka 'ona,
a siea letsoho. Nonyana ea fihla, ea lula ho lona, ea re :

Tsoili, tsoili, bolenyana ba 'Mamasilo, thite hlakana.

A e tšoara e lutse letsoho ng la hae, e itse le ka sefate.

Joale he a e nka, a oroha le eona ; ha a le tseleng, a re : Ke
ea u hlaba-hlaba kamorao. Joale nonyana ea re : Se ntlhabe-
ntlhabe kamorao, ke u nyela-nyella mafi. Joale ea mo nyella
marl, a a ja tseleng. A fihla hae, a boela a nka lehlokoa, a re :
Ke u hlaba-hlaba kamorao. — Se ntlhabe-ntlhabe kamorao, ke
u nyela-nyella mafi, u ke u khore le banana ba hao le monna
oa hao. Joale he a bea pitsana, ea e tlatsa ; a bea pitsana, ea
e tlatsa. Ba e-ja.

Joale hosasane ba ea masimong ; ngoanana oa teng a lula, a
kena tlung. Joale a re ho eona : Ke u hlaba-hlaba kamorao.
Ea re : Se ntlhabe-ntlhabe kamorao, ke u nyela-nyelia mafi, u je,
u khore le thakanyana tsa hao. Joale he ea etsa joalo ; a bea

and Folk-Lore Journal, I, p. 127 Usomametukyo). In the Kaffir and Zulu stories the
episode of the great bird which delivers the children is wanting; they end either
with the flight of the bird that excretes milk or add other inc. dents.

102 FOLK-TALES

excrete thick milk for you that you may eat your fill with
your companions. It did so. She took a pot, it filled it ; she
took another pot, it filled it ; she took another pot, it filled it ;
she took another pot, it filled it. They ate, they ate their fill,
the children of the village.

At evening her mother arrived. She said : My child, who
was it opened the hut ? She answered : It was I. — For what
reason did you open it ? — It was to get food for the child. She
concealed what she had done with the bird. Her mother told
her : Do not open the hut any more, I shall put the food of the
child in a pot.

Next day they went to the gardens. The girl opened the hut
again. She spoke to the bird, saying : I shall prick-prick you
in your hind parts. It answered : Don't prick-prick me in my
hind parts ; I shall excrete-excrete thick milk for you, that you
may eat your fill with the other girls. Now, because the girls
were sitting in 'Mamasilo's court because of the thick milk, she
took the bird outside. When it was outside, where the girls
were assembled, she said : I shall prick-prick you in your hind
parts. — Don't prick-prick me in my hind parts ; I shall excrete-
excrete thick milk for you, that you may eat your fill with the
other girls. It did so. Then it remembered its home, and said :
I shall sing the song of my home. It sang there in the reed
enclosure. It said : If it were at home, I should hop about ad-
miring myself.1

Presently they said : The working companies are coming-
home. The bird was brought back to the hut. The mother
arrived and said : Child, what means all that disorder in the
reed enclosure ? She answered : I was playing with the girls
of the village. They went to sleep. Next morning they went
to the gardens. She went into the hut, and took the bird. It
said : Yesterday, the dust choked us in the reed enclosure, let
us go outside it. The girl ordered the pots to be brought. She
said : I shall prick-prick you in your hind parts. — Don't prick-
prick me in my hind parts ; I shall excrete-excrete thick milk
for you, that you may eat your fill with the other girls. Then
it filled all those pots. They ate their fill. Then they sang,
they sang outside.

In the evening the people came back. The mother asked her
again; she denied having done anything. They went to sleep.
Next morning they went to the gardens. The girls assembled ;
they came, they came in numbers. She went into the hut and

I The bird sings its song of praise; the exact words are probably wanting.

The Bird that excretes milk 1 03

pitsana, ea e tlatsa ; a bea pitsana, ea e tlatsa ; a bea pitsana, ea
e tlatsa ; a bea pitsana, ea e tlatsa. Ba e-ja, ba khora banana
ba motse.

Joale mantsiboea 'm'a hae a fihla. Joale a re : Ngoana, ke
mang a ba a bula moo ? A re : Ke 'na. — U no u bula u etsa'ng ?
— Ke ne nkela ngoana lijo. A pata ho bolela taba ena ea
nonyana. Joale 'm'a hae a re : U se hlole u bula ntlo ea ka ; ke
tla bea lijo tsa ngoana mophateng.

Joale he ba ile masimong. A eketsa a bula. Joale a re ho
nonyana ena, a re : Ke u hlaba-hlaba kamorao. Joale ea re :
Se ntlhabe-ntlhabe kamorao ; ke u nyeia-nyella mafi, u je u
khore le banana ba bang. Joale ka hobane banana ba ne ba
lula ha 'Mamasilo ka baka la mafi, a e ntšetsa ntle. Joale ha e
le ntle, banana ba se ba bokane, a re : Ke u hlaba-hlaba kamo-
rao. — Se ntlhabe-ntlhabe kamorao, ke u nyela-nyella mafi, u
je u khore le banana ba bang. Joale ea etsa joalo. Joale he ea
hopola, ea re : Ke bine pina ea heso ? Joale ea bina mona
lapeng. Joale he ea re : Ha e le ha eso, nka tlōla ke rialo, ka
'na ka inyaka.

Joale ba re : Matsema a oroha. Ea busetsoa tlung. 'M'ae a
fihla : Ngoana, na ke'ng lepoqo le lekale ? Joale a re : Ke be ke
ntse ke bapala le banana beso. Joale he hoa robaloa. Hosa-
sane ha uoa masimong. Oa kena, oa e ntša. Joale e re : Lerō-
le le re qetile lapeng maobane, ha re eeng kantle. Joale he o
re ba tlise lipitsana. A re : Ke u hlaba-hlaba kamorao. — Se
ntlhabe-ntlhabe kamorao, ke u nyela-nyella mafi, u je 11 khore
le banana ba bang. Joale e tlatsa lipitsa kaofela ; ba ja, ba
khora. Joale hoa binoa, ho binoa kantle.

Mantsiboea ba fihla, 'm'ae a boela a 'motsa, a latola. Ba
robala. Hosasane he ho uoa masimong. Banana ba bokana,
ba bokana ; oa kena, oa e ntša. Joale e re : Maobane, kantle,
re bolailoe ke lerōle, e ka khona re ee ka ntle ho motse. Joale

104 FOLK-TALES

took the bird. Then it said : Yesterday, outside, the dust choked
us ; we must go outside the village. They ale ; they sang.
In the evening it was put back in the hut. They went to sleep.

The night cleared ; they went to the gardens. She took the
bird. This time they went far from the village. It sang, it
sang, it sang. The people came back. Next morning they went
to the gardens. She took the bird. This time it brought them
very far ; it said : Here it is dusty. It sang, it sang, it sang.
Now black clouds began to arise ; they were black, black, black !
They were near bushes. Now the bird flew away and went
into the bushes among other birds. The children took stones,
and began to throw them at the birds. A terrific storm broke.

The children were in distress. Now another bird arrived, a
very large one, the Tlatlasolle.1 It gathered them all under its
wings ; it spread its wings over them and covered them up. A
big hailstorm came on, which broke even the trees. The storm
passed. Then the bird went away, taking them on its wings;
it went to its home and kept them there.

Now their people were looking for them ; they went to all the
villages, to all the villages, to all the villages. — No, we did
not see them. Some said : We saw them at such and such a
place, busy singing. The people ran there. They found that
there was nobody at the place where they had been singing.
Now those children were carrying little children still suckling ;
others were as high as this — beginning to walk. People looked
for them for years, for years.

Now the bird sent the children to the circumcision ; the girls
it sent to the initiation ceremonies.2 When it had finished doing
so with all of them, it took them on its wings. It went high up
into the sky. When flying, it kept on saying : To whom do
these children belong ? It said : Some are from Pelipeli's, others
are from Senokonoko's, some are from Pelipeli oa Khuto, others
are from Senokonoko-sea-bina-sea-rethetha.3 At that time the

1 The Tlatlasolle is, of course, a mythical bird. In a Zambezi tale (JACOT-
TET, Textes Soubiya, p. 69) a bird called Chihungu also saves three boys pursued
by Seedimwe ; likewise in an Angola tale (CHATELAIN, op. cit. p. Ill) the Hawk
saves girls from the hands of the Makishi or cannibals. The bird which delivers the
children is also found in the Be-Chwana story quoted above, and in a fragment
of another Be-Chwana tale given in Folk-Lore Journal, (I. p. 14), where it is
called Phuku-phuku. In the Kaffir version given by Theal mention is made of it
(p. 36), but only in an episodical manner, which allows us to conclude that it also
originally formed part of the tale.

2 Among many Bantu tribes, boys are circumcised at the time of en ering
manhood. They pass some months in a hut (called the mophaio, circumcision
hut) in the open country, under the guidance of their instructors (mesuoe), and

The Bird that excretes milk 1 05

he ha jeoa, ha binoa. Mantsiboea ea phuthoa, ea busetsoa
tlung. Joale he ba robala.

Boa sa he, ba ea masimong. Oa e nka he. Joale ba ea seba-
ka le motse. Joale ea bina, ea bina, ea bina he ; ba oroha.
Hosasane ba ea masimong. A e ntša. Joale ea ba isa hole, e re :
Mona ke lerōle. Joale ea bina, ea bina, ea bina. Joale ho hla-
ha maru a matšo, a matšo, a matšo, a matšo. Joale he ke pel'a
moru. Eaba ea rura, e kena morung har'a linonyana tse ling.
Joale ba ntse ba nka majoe, ba betsa, ba betsa ; ho tla sefefo
se tsabehang.

Joale ba se ba le tsietsing. Ha hlaha nonyana esele ea
tonana, Tlatlasolle. Joale he ea ba phutha kaofela ka lepheo,
joale ea hokobala e ba apesitse. Fako sa fihla se seholo, sa
roba le lifate. Joale he sa feta ; ea tloha e ba olile, e ea le bona
ha eona, ea ba boloka teng.

Joale mahae ho ntso ho batloa ; ho titimeloa metse eohle,
metse eohle, metse eohle. — Ha rea ka ra ba bona. Ba bang
ba re : Re ba bone ba le thoteng ea hore ba ntse ba bina. Ha
phalloa, ha fumanoa moo ba neng ba bina ho se motho. Joale
bana bana ba pepile ba banyenyane, ba anyang ; ba bang ke
ba kana^4 ba titimang. Ho batliloe, ho batliloe, ho batliloe,
ho batliloe ka lilemo.

Joale ba baholo ea ba bolotsa ; joale ba baholo ba batšehali
ea ba bolotsa. Joale he ea ba bolotsa, ea ba qeta kaofela. Ho-
bane e ba bolotse, e ba qete, ea ba ola ka lipheo tsa eona.
Joale ea fofa sebakeng sa leholimo. Ea fofa e ntse e re: Bali-
kana5 bana ke ba kae ? Joale ea re : Ba bang ke ba ha Peli-
peli; ba bang ke ba ha Senokonoko ; ba bang ke ha Pelipeli
oaKhuto; ba bang ke ba ha Senokonoko-sea-bina-sea-rethetha.

are taught a certain number of very old and obscure songs called likooma. From
that time they are looked upon as men. Girls have at about the same time to
undergo a similar initiation. Circumcison of the boys and initiation of the girls
are known by the same word lebollo, which means lit. going out (i.e. going out
from the village into the open country, where both ceremonies are performed).
The Se-Suto word being the same for both sexes, European authors sometimes
use the word circumcision of the girls, but quite wrongly, as nothing occurs in
the girls' lebollo which in any way ressembles circumcision.

3 Senokonoko-sea-bina-sea-rethetha is a propei name followed by the first line
of the li.hoko or song of praise. It means: the one who sings and stamps with his feet-

4 It means as big as this, poiting with the hand to show the size.

5 Balikana is a word used in the circumcision hut, meaning boys.

106 FOLK-TALES

cattle were in the veldt. The herd boys said : What is it ?
What kind of bird is. it ? What does it say ? Now because it
knew where these children came from, that some were from the
village of so and so, others from the village of so and so, it kept
on calling them after the names of their parents.

Now the cattle ran away, and went back to the villages. When
the herd boys arrived home, they said : A bird has astonished
us greatly ; it calls us by our Uboko1 and by our names. When
they were still speaking so, they exclaimed : Hear ! hear ! it is
its voice. When it appeared, they said : There it is. It kept
on flying and saying : I am the Tlatlasolle. The people came
running from all the villages, looking at that bird. It arrived
at the village of the chief; it sat down outside the village. Now
the people of all the villages had made haste to come to the
chief's. They asked : To whom do these children belong ? —
Some are from Senokonoko's, others are from Sebilo's. Some
of the people said : They are indeed from our people.

Then it said : Spread mats on the ground, all over the public
place. They spread mats quickly, the public place was complete-
ly covered with them. Now the bird left the refuse heap,
saying : To whom do these children belong ? Is nobody here
who still misses his children ? It sat down on the pole before
the gate of the cattle kraal. When they had finished spreading
the mats, it descended, stood on the mats, and let the girls
down. It shook them from its wings ; they were already grown-
up girls. Again it let the girls down, they were already grown-
up girls. It did so a third time, let more girls down ; they were
already grown-up girls. They were already big. They looked
at their fathers and mothers, but they were afraid of them and
cried.

Then the bird went and stood a little way off. It let down
boys who were still able to remmber the houses of their mothers.
It did the same a second time, let down a big number of boys.
Again, a third time it let down lots of boys. Now the people
said : What is to be clone as the children do not know us, nei-
ther do we know them ? Now the bird placed apart the children
of the same person, and put them near the eldest of them. Now
it was that one who said: Father, these are my brothers and sis-
ters ; this one is so and so, this one is so and so. — Yes, they are
my children ! The bird kept on putting them so in groups, every

I The seboko (pi. Uboko) is the name of the clan, generally the name of an
eponymous animal, as Ba-Koena, the clan of the crocodile, Ba-Tsoeneng, the clan
of the baboon, etc.

The Bird that excretes milk 1 07

Joale he makhomo anea alohile. Ba re : Ke'ng ? Ke nonyana
mgoe ? e re'ng ? Joale ka hobane e ne e tseba bana bana moo
ba tsoang, ba bang ke ba ha 'nyeo, ba bang ke ba ha 'nyeo, e
ntse e ba bala joalo ka mabitso a baholo ba bona.

Joale makhomo a baleha he, a oroha. Ha ba fihla hae, ba
re: Nonyana e re hloletse, e re bitsa ka liboko tsa rōna le ka
mabitso a rōna. Ba sa rialo he, ba re : Utloang he, lentsoe la
eona ke leo. Eitse ha e hlaha ba re : Ke eo. E ntse e fofa, e
re : Tlatlasolle. Joale batho ba phalla ka metse kaofela, ba
talima nonyana eo. Joale he ea fihla he moreneng, ea lula ka
ntle ho motse. Joale ba motse kaofela ba pheheietse ho tla
moreneng. Joale ba ntse ba botsa : Balikana bana ke ba
mang ? — Ba bang ke ba ha Senokonoko, ba bang ke ba ha
Sebilo. Ba bang ba re : Ke baheso, ke bao.

Joale ea re : Alang meseme, e tlale lepatlelo. Joale ba ala
meseme ka phakiso, lepatlelo la tlala, la re roe ! Ea tloha he
thotobolong, ea re : Na balika bana ke ba kae ? Na ha eno ha
ho motho ea batlang ? Joale he ea lula holim'a lesaka, mose-
hlelong. Ha ba se ba qetile ho ala, ea theoha, ea lula he har'a
meseme, ea liha banana, ea ba hlohlolla e se e le baroetsana.
Ea eket'sa ea tšolla banana e se e le baroetsana. Ea eketsa la
boraro, ea tšolla banana e se e le baroetsana. Joale he ba se
ba le baholo, ba talima bo-'m'a bona le bo-ntat'a bona, ba mpa
ba ba tšaba, ba 11a.

Joale he ea tloha, ea lula ka 'ngane, ea tsolla bahlankanyana,
ba ntse ba tseba liotloana tsa bo-'m'a bona. Joale ea boela ea
eketsa hape, ea tšolla bahlankanyana la bobeli, ba le bangata
hampe. Ea boela ea tšolla bahlankanyana la boraro. Joale ba
re : Ho ea etsoa joang, ha bana ba sa re tsebe, le rōna re sa ba
tsebe ? Joale he e khetha ba e mong, e ba bea ho e moholo ho
bona. Joale ke eena ea reng : Ntate ke banabeso bana; enoa
ke 'nyeo, enoa ke 'nyeo. — E, ke bana ba ka. E ntse e ba bea

108 FOLK-TALES

child by his eldest brother or sister. So the children went to the
huts of their mothers. They went to sleep.

Next morning Senokonoko called all the tribe together ; it
was a big assembly. They said : What shall be done ? How
shall we reward that bird ? Now the chiefs, big and small, and
the headmen, all the parents of the children said that it should
be rewarded with cattle. — But what will it do with the cattle,
as it is flying in the air ? They said : We shall drive the cattle,
and bring them to its home.1

So it went flying on high, whilst the people were driving the
oxen. It went on coming back to them, showing them the path
which led to its home. So the oxen arrived at its home. The
big cattle kraal in the bush was completely filled with the cat-
tle. Then the people went back to their villages. This bird
was now their friend. They went often to visit it at its place,
and it also visited them.

Now is the end of the tale.

XVI

SEETETELANE 2

There was a man called Seetetelane. He had no wife ; he

1 In a Zulu (CALLAWAY; op. cit. p. 239) and a Zambezi tale (JACOTTET,
Texies Lonyi, p. 70) a frog which has saved a girl is rewarded in the same way.

2 Tales of the same kind are met with in East Africa and among the A-
shantis. In a tale from Uganda (Manuel de Langue Luganda, p. 198) Sikilyamu-
naku makes friends with a leopard; through it he gets a wife, servants, goats etc.
One day one of his relations does harm to the leopard, and all the riches of
Sikilyamunaku vanish. In another tale from Uganda (ibid. p. 249) a poor man,
Matumpagwa, takes in his snare a woman with very large ears. He marries her
and she gives him great riches. One day one of his children insults his mother
on account of her ears; she goes away with all her riches, an:l the husband re-
mains alone as poor as of yore. The long and most interesting Swahili story of
Su'tan Darai (STEERE, Swahili Tales pp. 13-137) tells a similar tale. All the
wonderful riches of Sultan Darai come to an abrupt end on account of his in-
gratitude to the gazelle who benefited him. In a Bondei tale (WOODWARD, op.
cit. p. 36) a poor old woman receives from a tree leaves which become male and

Seetetelane 1 09

joalo ka lihlopha ka baholoane ba bona. Joale ba ea ka mala-
pa a bo-'m'a bona. Joale hoa robaloa.

Hosasane Senokonoko o tla mema sechaba, e be pitso e
kholo. Joale e re : Ho ea etsoa joang ? Nonyana eo e ea lebo-
huoa joang ? Joale morena le marenana le matona, bohle bo-r'a
bana ba re e fuoe likhomo. — Joale he li ea etsoa joang, ha e
fofa holimo. Ba re : Re tla li otla, re li tsamaise, re e'o li fihlisa
ha eona.

Joale eona e ntse e fofa holimo, batho ba phiphithile makho-
mo. Joale e khutle, e boee ho bona, e ba joentse tsela e fihlang
ha eona. Joale he lia fihla hae likhomo. Joale lesaka le leholo
la teng la moru lea tlala, le re roe ! Joale he ke ha ba khutlela hae,
e se e le motsoalle oa bona, ba se ba ea 'ne ba e etele hae, ha
nonyana eo, le eona e ba etele.

Joale ke tšōmo ka mathetha.

XVI
SEETETELANE
Ba re e ne e re e le Seetetelane. O na a se na mosali, a

female servants, and she becomes very rich. One day she scolds one of them
and calls her, daughter of a tree ; in consequence the servants become leaves as
before and the old woman is reduced to poverty again. In a story from
Nyasaland (MACDONALD, op. cit. p. 324) some fruits called masuku are changed
into men and become the attendants of a chief called Simwe. One day being
drunk he chides them as being only masuku, and he is left destitute. An A-
shati tale (PEREGAUX, Chez les Achantis, p. 196 in Bulletin de la Sociètè neuchaieloi-
se de Gèographie, 1906) says that the spider, having killed an antelope, one of
the legs of the antelope became a woman, who gave lots of riches to the spider ;
one day the spider's first wife chided her for being only an antelope's leg ; she
then vanished with all her riches. — A Zambezi story (Smith, Handbook of Ila,
p. 179) is a little different. A woman catches a fish which becomes a man and
marries her; but as she, contrary to his orders, eats some of his food he goes
back to the river and becomes a fish again.

no FOLK-TALES

lived upon field mice only ; he wore a cloak and loin cloth of
field mice skins. Once, when he had gone to hunt for field
mice, he found an egg, and took it, saying : This egg I shall
eat when the wind blows from yonder side. He put it under
the roof of his hut.

He went away again to the open country. When he came
back, he found that bread was already made and much beer
brewed for him ; it was so every day. When he arrived, he
said : Seetetelane, thou wentest away as a bachelor ; who then
has ground that bread for thee ? who then has brewed that beer
for thee ? He ate that bread, finished it ; he drank that beer,
finished it.

One day a woman came out of this egg. She said : Seetete-
lane, however drunk you may be* with beer, do not say that I
am the daughter of an ostrich's egg, Another time this woman
said to Seetetelane : Do you want people ? Seetetelane said :
Yes, I want them. The woman went to thrash on the refuse
heap.

Next day when he awoke there was a big noise of people ;
Seetetelane heard it. He was already covered with a kaross of
jackal's fur, he was already a big chief. The people came to
him, saying : Hail, chief ! the little children too said so. It was
so all the time : Hail, chief ! even the dogs said so. There were
everywhere the bellowings of cattle ; it was a big village. See-
tetelane was a big chief, he was no more clothed with field mice
skins, but he was clothed with jackal skins, and sleeping on a
mat.

One day he got quite drunk with beer. When quite filled
with beer, he said : O thou daughter of an ostrich's egg ! The
woman said : Is it really you, Seetetelane, who say that I am
the daughter of an ostrich's egg ? He repeated it again. At night
they slept in their skins of jackals, slept luxuriously on the
mat.

When Seetetelane awoke, he found that he was lying on the
ground, and was covered with a small kaross of field mice skins
which did not even cover his feet ; he felt very cold. He saw
that that woman was no longer there ; all the people were gone too.
He vainly tried to feel for her ; he found that she was gone
with his jackal skins. He began to remember, saying : Did I
say that she was the daughter of an ostrich's egg ? He then-
said : Dear me ! He said : Mm, what shall I do ? Henceforth, he
was again a bachelor, and became old, still feeding on the
flesh of field mice ; it was so till he died.

Now it is the end of the tale.

Seetetelane III

phela ka litali feela, a apara kobo ea litali, a tena tšeha ea lita-
li. Ka mohlomong o na a ile ho tsoma litali, A thola lehe, a
re : Lehe lee ke le tla jeoa mohla moea o tsoang koana. A le bea
ka sepholletsing sa ntlo.

Joale a tsamaea, a ea naheng. Ha a khutla, a fumana ho se
ho sitsoe bohobe, a riteletsoe le joala, ka mehla eohle. Ere ha
a fihlile, a re : Seetetelane, etela bosoha, kapa hojana boo u bo
siletsoe ke mang, kapa joalanyana boo u bo riteletsoe ke mang ?
A ja lipolokoe tsena, a li qeta ; a noa le joala, a bo qeta.

Ka mohlomong lehe lena ha tsoa motho'ka ho lona. Are:
Seetetelane, leha u se u tahuoe ke bo joang joala, u se ke ua ba
ua re, ke mosali oa lehe la mpshe. Ka mohlomong mosali enoa
a re ho Seetetelane : Nauratabatho na ? Seetetelane a re: E,
kea ba rata. A pola thotobolong mosali eo.

Eitse hosasane a tsoha, e se e le lerata la batho le Jeholo, la fihla
ho Seetetelane, Seetetelane a apere kobo ea phokojoe, e se e le
morena e moholo. Ba fihla ho eena, ba re : E, morena ; le bana
ba banyenyane. Ea sala e le : E, morena ! kaofela le lintja.
Liboko tsa likhomo li ne li le ngata, motse o se o le moholo.
Seetetelane ke morena e moholo, o se a sa apare matatana a
litali, a apara liphokojoe, a robala mosemeng.

Ka mohlomong a tahoa ke joala haholo. Ha a tahiloe, a re
fuu ke joala, a re : Morali oa lehe la mpshe ! Mosali a re : Na
ekaba ke uena, Seetetelane, u reng ke morali oa lehe la mpshe ?
A pheta a rialo Seetetelane. Mantsiboea ba robala ka liphoko-
joe, ba robala hamonate mosemeng.

Eitse ha Seetetelane a phaphama, a fumana a se a nametse
fatše, a se a apere matatana a litali a sa fihleng maotong, a ha-
tsetse. A fumana mosali eno a se a le a sieo ; le batho bao ba ne
ba le sieo kaofela. A re ka phopholetsa, a fumana a sa ile le
liphokojoe tsa hae. A qala ho hopola, a re : Ana ke itse, ke
mosali oa lehe la mpshe ? A ba a re : A 'na eloa ! A ba a re :
Mm, ke tla etsa joang ? Ea be e se e le lesoha joale, a ba a.
tsofala a ntse a phela ka nama ea litali ; a ba a shoa.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

112 FOLK-TALES

XVII
KUMONNGOE 1

There was a boy called Hlabakoane, his sister was Thakane,
daughter of 'Mahlabakoane. Her father and mother were hoe-
ing in the gardens ; she stayed at home, Hlabakoane was herd-
ing the cattle. On a certain day he said : Thakane, give me
Kumonngoe. It was a tree of which her father and mother were
in the habit of eating ; when it was chopped by an axe milk
came out of it.1 But the children did not eat of it.

The boy said : Thakane, give me Kumonngoe. Thakane said :
My brother, it is a tree of which we must not eat, only father
and mother eat of it. — If it be so, I will not herd, the cattle
shall stay in the kraal. Thakane thought about it, her brother
stayed in the reed enclosure. Presently she said : When will
you be going to herd ? He said : I shall not go to herd.

Now she took a pot, she took an axe, and chopped Kumonngoe.
A little piece only was broken, she gave it to him, but he refus-
ed ; he said it was a small thing, it would not be sufficient for
him. She took some more of it, she cut much from it Now
thick milk poured out in a flood, it made as if it were a river
in the hut, it came out in a flood. She cried for help to Hlaba-
koane, saying : Hlabakoane, help me, my clear, the property of
father and mother is coming out in a flood, it fills the hut. They
vainly tried to stop the thick milk, it came out in a flood, it
flowed like a river.2

Presently it flowed outside. Then it went to the gardens, it
kept on following the path to the gardens. It was seen by the
father Rahlabakoane. He said : 'Mahlabakoane, there is Ku-
monngoe coming to the gardens ; the children have done harm
at home. They threw their hoes away, and went to meet it ;
the husband took it in his hand and ate it, the woman took it

1 This interesting tale is probably made out of two or three different tales,
viz. the story of Thakane eating the wonderful milk, the story of Lilahloane, and
the story of the rock which eats people. The three stories are rather skilfully
made into a whole.

2 Cf. the tales of Mosimoli (No. XXIII) where we have two pots which when
churned give butter, and of MothcmeLe (No. XXXIII) where grains of kaffir corn

Kumonngoe 113

XVII

KUMONNGOE

E ne e le Hlabakoane, ngoan'abo ke Thakane oa 'Mahlaba-
koane. Joale ntat'ae le 'm'ae ba be ba lema, eena a siuoa hae,
Hlabakoane a alosa likhomo. Joale ka letsatsi le leng o itse :
Thakane, mphe Kumonngoe. Ke sefate se jeoan^ ke 'm'ae le
ntat'ae ; joale ha se rathoa ka selepe, se tsoe lebese. Joale he
bana bao ha ba se je.

Eaba o re : Thakane, mphe Kumonngoe. Eaba Thakan e
re : Ngoan'eso, ke fate see re sa se jeng, se jeoa ke 'me le ntate.
— Ha ho le joalo, ha nka ke ka alosa, khomo li tla lula ka
lesaka. Joale he Thakane a imamela ; ngoan'abo a ba a lula
iapeng. Eaba o re : U ea alosa neng na ? Are: Ha ke e'o alosa.

Eaba o nka lefisoana, a nka selepe, a ratha Kumonngoe. Joale
he sa qhatseha hanyenyane ; a re oa mo nea, eaba oa hana, o
re ke nthoana e nyenyane, a ke ke a khora. A boea a qhatsa
haholo, a ratha haholo. Eaba a phalla mafi, a etsa joale ka
nōka ka tlung, a tsoa haholo. Eaba o hlaba mokhosi ho
Hlabakoane, a re : Hlabakoane, nthuse, mosebetsi oa ntate le
'me o se o phaletse haholo, o tletse ntlo. Ba itse ka re ba
thiba, a hana, a tsoa haholo, a phalla joale ka nōka.

Joale a tsoela ntle ; eaba mosebetsi 00 o ea masimong, eaba
e sa le o nkile tsela ho ea masimong. Eaba o bonoa ke monna,
Rahlabakoane. A re : 'Mahlabakoane, Kumonngoe ke ena e
tla masimong, bana ba sebile hae. Eaba ba lahla mehoma, ba
e khahlanyetsa ; ba fihla, monna a e kha ka letsoho, eaba oa e
ja ; mosali o e kha ka letsoho, oa e ja. Eaba Kumonngoe ea

when put in a pot multiply into immense quantities.

In a Kaffir story (THEAL, op. cit. p. 29) mention is also made of a tree out of
which milk is obtained.

3 Among the Kaffirs (THEAL, op. cit. p. 27) there is a story of milk which,
being poured into a hole, rises higher and still higher, till it stands up out of the
ground like a great overhanging rock.

114 FOLK-TALES

in her hand and ate it. Kumonngoe was gathered and went
back home. They went behind it.

They arrived at home. They said : Thakane, what have you
done that the tree which your father and mother eat is flowing
so to the gardens ? She said : It is Hlabakoane' s fault, not mine ;
he had left the cattle in the kraal, refusing to herd ; as he said
he wanted Kumonngoe, I gave him some of it. Now the father
said that they must go and bring back the sheep from the
veldt.

Then he slaughtered two sheep and cooked them ; the mother
ground grain and made bread. The father took clothes, smeared
them, and went to fetch a smith to fasten rings on his daugh-
ter. The smith fastened them on her legs, her arms, and round
her neck. The father then took the clothes and clothed her ;
he made her a fine petticoat and put it on her. He was going
to accompany her, and then cast her off.

He called the men of his court, and said: I am going to cast
Thakane off. They said : As she is your only daughter how
can you cast her off, seeing she is your only daughter. He said :
She has eaten of the tree which was not to be eaten. He accompa-
nied her to take her to a cannibal who should eat her.

When they were below the gardens there came a steenbok.1
It asked Rahlabakoane, it said : Where are you taking this
beautiful daughter of yours ? He said : You may ask her, she
has years. Thakane said :

I have given to Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,

To the herd of our cattle Kumonngoe.

I thought our cattle were going to stay in the kraal, Kumonngoe,

And so I gave him my father's Kumonngoe.

Then the steenbok said : 1 hope it is you they will eat, Ra-
hlabakoane, and leave this child.

He met with elands, they said : Where are you taking this
beautiful child of yours ? He said : You may ask her, she has
years ; she has harmed me much at home yonder. Then the
maiden said :

I have given to Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,

To the herd of our cattle Kumonngoe.

I thought our cattle were going to stay in the kraal, Kumonngoe,

And so I gave him my father's Kumonngoe.

Then the eland said : I hope it is you who will die, Rahla-
bakoane.

I The incident of animals questioning a wanderer is found in Ba-Suto, Zulu,
and other tales (cf. A. Sekese, op. cit. p. 216 ; Callaway, op. cit. p. 322 ; Schoen,
op. cit. p. 140).

Kumonngoe 1 15

phutheha, e ea hae. Eaba ba tsamaea ka mora' eona.

Ba fihla hae, ba re : Thakane, u entse joang ha sefate se jeoang
ke ntat'ao le 'na se ea masimong? A re : Ke Hlabakoane, hase
'na ; o na a a tlohetse likhomo ka lesaka, a sa alosa ; joale he
ka mo fa, a re o batla Kumonngoe. Eaba ntat'ae o re ba ee ho
busa linku naheng, li tie hae.

Eaba o hlaba nku tse peli, oa li pheha ; 'm'ae o sila bohobe,
oa pheha. Eaba o nka likobo, o li tlotsa, o batla lelala le tla
teela ngoan'a hae tsela. Joale lelala le mo teetse matsohong le
molaleng. Eaba o ntša liboko, oa mo apesa ; o mo sehela mose
o motle, oa mo tentša. Joale oa mo felehetse, o ea mo lahla.

Abitsabanna ba lekhotla, a re : Ke lahla Thakane. Bare:
Na ha a le mong, joale u mo lahla joang ha e le ngoan'a hao a
inotši. Eaba o re : O jele sefate se sa jeoeng. Eaba oa mo
felehetsa, ho mo isa ho malimo a ea mo ja.

Eitse ha a le tlase ho masimo, ha tsoa thianyane. Joale ea
botsa Rahlabakoane, ea re : Na ngoan'eo oa hao e motle-motle
eo, u mo isa kae ? A re : U ka 'motsa, ke eo oa lilemo. Eaba
Thakane o re :

Ke neile Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,
Molis'a khomo tseso, Kumonngoe,

Ka re khomo tseso li tla 'ne li erne ka lesaka, Kumonngoe,
Eaba ke mo nea Kumonngoe ea ntate.
Eaba thianyane e re: Eka li ka ka tsa e-ja uena, Rahlaba-
koane, tsatlohela ngoana enoa.

Akhahlana le lipbofu, tsa re: Na ngoan'eo oa hao e motle-
motle eo, u mo isa kae ? Eaba o re : Le ka 'motsa, ke eo, e sa le
oa lilemo, o ntšentse haholo-holo koana hae. Eaba moroetsana
o re :

Ke neile Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,
Molis'a khomD tseso, Kumonngoe,

Ka re khomo tseso li tla 'ne li erne ka lesaka, Kumonngoe,
Eaba ke mo nea Kumonngoe oa ntate.
Joale he phofu ea re : Eka u ka ea shoa uena, Rahlabakoane,

116 FOLK-TALES

He passed on, he slept in the open country. He met with
springbucks. — Rahlabakoane, where are you taking this
beautiful child of yours ? He said : You may ask her, she has
years ; she has harmed me much yonder at home. Now his
daughter said :

I have given to Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,

To the herd of our cattle Kumonngoe.

I thought our cattle were going to stay in the kraal, Kumonngoe,

And so I gave him my father's Kumonngoe.

The springbuck said : I hope it is you they will eat, Rahla-
bakoane.

At last he arrived at the cannibals' village ; he found that
the court of Masilo, the chiefs son, was full of people. It was
his father who ate people ; as for him, he did not eat them.
Rahlabakoane sat down in the court with the maiden. They
took a skin and spread it, the maiden sat on it ; the father sat
on the ground. The chief Masilo asked him : Rahlabakoane,
where are you taking this beautiful child of yours ? He said :
You may ask her, she has years. His daughter said :

I have given to Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,

To the herd of our cattle Kumonngoe,

I thought our cattle were going to stay in the kraal, Kumonngoe,

And so I gave him my father's Kumonngoe.

She told her tale in the men's court.

Then Masilo, the chief of this tribe of cannibals, sent his
court messenger, he said : Take that man and the maiden to
the courtyard of my mother, and tell her to take that man to
my father, but to keep the maiden in her courtyard ; that man must
go and salute my father. The mother came, took that man, and
sent him to the cannibal on the mountain. She sent the court
messenger, saying : Masilo says that I must bring you this man
that he may salute you. The father of Masilo took him, put a
piece of a broken pot on the fire, and threw him down into it ;
the man was burned, was well roasted, and became meat. He
ate him. Then the court messenger went down and returned to
the village.

Masilo then took that maiden as his wife; he had not yet
married, he had refused all maidens, but now he married this
daughter of Rahlabakoane. After a while she became preg-
nant and gave birth to a girl. Her mother-in-law said : Alas !
my child, you have suffered to no purpose. (When girls were
born they were taken to the cannibal to be eaten by him ; that
cannibal was as a grave). The girl was silent.

Then they told Masilo, saying : A child has been born, a
girl. He said : Oo ! take her to my father that he may take
care of her. The mother said : Oh ! oh ! with us men are ne-
ver eaten, when they die they are buried ; I refuse to give my
child. Her mother-in-law said : Here no girls are to be born, only

Kumonngoe 117

A feta. O tsamaile he; a robala naheng. O khahlane le
litšephe. — Na Rahlabakoane, ngoan'eo oa hao e motle-motle
eo, u mo isa kae ? A re : U ka 'motsa, ke eo, e sa le oa lilemo, o
ntšentse haholo-holo koana hae. Joale he ngoan'a moroetsana
a re :

Ke neile Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,

Molis'a khomo tseso, Kumonngoe,

Ka re khomo tseso li tla 'ne li erne ka lesaka, Kumonngoe,

Eaba ke mo nea Kumonngoe ea ntate.

Joale tšephe ea re : Eka li ka ka tsa ea ja uena, Rahlabakoane.

Joale he a ea fihla motseng oa malimo, a fihlela lekhotla le
tletse batho ha ngoan'a mohlanka, ha Masilo. Batho ba jeoa
ke ntat'ae, eena ha a ba je. Eaba Rahlabakoane o lula le mo-
roetsana eo khotla ; ba nka mokhahla, ba o ala ; moroetsana a
lula teng, ntat'ae a lula fatse. Eaba morena Masilo oa botsa :
Na Rahlabakoane, ngoan'eo oa hao e niotle-motle, u mo isa
kae ? A re : Le ka 'motsa, ke eo, ke oa lilemo. Eaba ngoan'a
hae o re :

Ke neile Hlabakoane Kumonngoe,

Molis'a khomo tseso, Kumonngoe,

Ka re khomo tseso li tla 'ne li erne ka lesaka, Kumonngoe,

Eaba ke mo nea Kumonngoe ea ntate.

A ipolela lekhotleng.

Joale eaba Masilo, morena oa chaba sena sa malimo, o roma
mohlanka oa hae oa lekhotla, o re : Isa monna eo le moroetsana
ka heso ka lapeng, u tie u re, 'mè a ise monna eo ho ntate, a
siee moroetsana lapeng, monna eo a e'o lumelisa ntate. Joale
he 'm'ae a fihla a nka monna eo, a mo isa thabeng ho lelimo.
A roma mohlanka eo oa lekhotla ; a re : Ho itsoe ke Masilo,
motho ke enoa, ke mo tlise ho uena, a tie ho u lumelisa. Eaba
ntat'ae oa mo nka, o bea lengeta ifo, eaba o mo lahlela teng
lengeteng ; eaba monna enoa oa cha, oa butsoa, ea e-ba nama.
A mo ja. Eaba mohlanka enoa oa lekhotla oa theoha, o
ea hae.

Moroetsana enoa eaba Masilo o mo etsa mosali, a na a sa
nyale, a hana baroetsana kaofela ; mohlang oo a nyala moroe-
tsana enoa oa Rahlabakoane. Eaba moroetsana enoa oa ema-
ra, o tsoala moroetsana. Eaba he 'm'ae o re : Jo ! ngoan'a ka,
ua robehela lefeela. (Banana ha ba tsoaloa ba isoa ho lelimo,
a e'o ba ja; lelimo leo ke lebitla.) Eaba oa khutsa.

Eaba ho bolelloa Masilo, ha thoe : Ngoana o hlahile, ke mo-
roetsana. Eaba o re : Oo ! mo iseng ho ntate, a e'o 'moloka.
Joale eaba 'm'ae o re : 'M 'in, ha eso batho ha ba jeoe ; ha ba
shoele, ba ea epeloa ; ke hana le ngoan'a ka. Joale matsal'ae a
re : Mona basetsana ha ba tsoaloe, ho tsoaloa bashanyana feela.

Ii8 FOLK-TALES

boys are to be born. Masilo her husband came, he said : Oho I
my wife, give up this child to my father that he may take care
of it.1 The mother refused, she said : I myself shall bury it,
I refuse to allow my child to be eaten by your father, the can-
nibal who ate my father.

She took her child, went to the river, and found a pool where
reeds were growing. She arrived and sat near it. She
cried, she was afraid to bury her child. Presently an old wo-
man came out of the reeds, she came out of the pool and said :
Why do you cry, woman ? She said : I cry on account of my
child, because I am going to throw it into the water. The old
woman said : Yes, at your place no girls are to be born, only
boys are to be born. Give her to me, I shall take care of her
for you ; name the days when you will come to see your child
here in the pool. The mother consented, and gave her her child.2

She went home / she remained some days and then went to
see her child. When she arrived at the pool she said :
Give me Lilahloane, that I may see her,
Lilahloane who has been cast off by Masilo.

Now the old woman brought the child out ; the mother found
that she was already grown up ; she rejoiced.3 She stayed with
that old woman, she stayed, she stayed, she stayed, she stayed,
she stayed, she stayed, she stayed there. Then the old woman
took the child and went back with her into the water. The wo-
man returned home.

She usually remained at home many days ; the days she was
coming to see her child, the old woman brought her out of the
water. The child grew up in one year and became a maiden.
That old woman made her pass through the initiation ceremony
in the water. On a certain day when the mother went to the
river they came out of the water, and she saw that her daughter
was now a girl just out of the initiation.4

Now a man of the village had come to cut some branches near
the river, he saw that maiden. As he looked at her he found
that her style of beauty was like Masilo's. That man arose and
went home. The wife of Masilo also went home. The man
told Masilo in secret, saying : I have seen your child with her

1 The expression a e'o 'moloka is a kind of euphemism with a double meaning.
Literally it means that he may take care of her. Ho boloka, to take care of, is
often euphemistically used with the meaning to bury. The cannibal buries the
people in his own belly ; he is a grave as is said a little higher.

2 In another version of Lilahloane 's story the girl is taken care of by a cro-
codile, not by an old woman, as here. In the Ronga tale of The little castaway
(JUNOD, op. cit. p. I/O) a little boy is cast away by his father ; the mother takes him

Kumonngoe 119

Eaba monna oa hae oa tla, Masilo, o re: Oho! mosali oa ka,
neela ntate ngoana enoa, a e'o 'moloka. Eaba 'm'ae oa liana,
a re : Le 'na ke tla mo epela, ke hana ha ngoan'a ka a ea jeoa
ke ntat'ao, lelimo le jeleng ntate.

Eaba o nka ngoan'a hae, o ea nōkeng, o fihlela boliba bo
melile lehlaka. Eaba o fihla, o lula ho bona. Eaba o nts'a
Ha, o tšaba ho epela ngoana oa hae. Joale eaba lehlakeng
mona ho tsoa setsoatsana ; sa tsoa bolibeng, sa re : U llela'ng,
mosali ? A re : Ke llela ngoana enoa oa ka, ha ke mo lihela
metsing. Joale qhekoana la re : E, ha eno ha ho tsoaloe base-
tsana, ho tsoaloa bashanyana feela ; 'nee ke u bolokele eena ;
u n'o bala litšiu, u tie ho bona ngoan'a hao mona letšeng. Eaba
oa lumela, a mo nea ngoana oa hae.

Eaba o ea hae, a lula litšiu, a ea bona ngoan'a hae. Joale he
ha a fihla moo letseng, a fihla, a re :

'Neele Lilahloane, ke bone,
Lilahloane ea lahliloeng ke Masilo.
Joale setsoatsana sa mo hlahisa ; a fihlela ngoan'a hae a se a
le moholo ; a thaba. Ba lula le setsoatsana seo, ba lula, ba lula,
ba lula, ba lula, ba lula, ba lula. Setsoatsana sa mo nka, sa
boela metsing; a ea hae.

A 'na a lula matsatsi. Ka tsatsi leo a tie ho bona ngoan'a
hae, setsoatsana se mo ntse metsing. Joale a ba a hola ka sele-
mo, ea e-ba moroetsana. Sa 'molotsa setsoatsana ka metsing.
Eitse mohla 'm'ae a eang, ba be ba tsoile, eaba o bona ngoan'a
hae e le setsoajane.

Joale monna e mong oa hae o na a tlile ho rema lithupa nō-
keng, a ba a bona moroetsana eo he. Joale ha a mo talima, a
fihlela botle ba hae e ka ba Masilo. Monna enoa a tloha, a ea
hae. A botsa Masilo, a mo ntsa lekunutu, a re : Ngoan'a hao ke
mo fihletse letseng a na le 'm'ae, a na a itse oa mo epela. Eaba

to the river and entrusts him to the care of a hippopotamus. It is very much
like our tale. — As for references in other tales to people living under the water
or being taken care of by the inhabitants of the water cf. the notes to the story
of Mosimoli and Mosimotsane (No. XXIV).

3 In the other Ba-Suto version and in the Ronga tale the child is also said to
grow up wonderfully quickly.

4 Setsoajane is the name given to a girl just out of the initiation ceremonies.

120 FOLK-TALES

mother by the river, it was the child she said she was going to
bury. Masilo said : Has it not been drowned in the water ? He
said : No, and she is even now a maiden, she has been initiated,
she is just out of it. Masilo said : What must I do ? — On the
day that your wife says that she is going to bathe in the river,
go there before her. He said again : Is it not her wont to tell
you ? Masilo said : She usually tells me. The man said : Go
there before her and sit down in the bush ; when your wife
arrives you must have already hidden yourself in the bush.

Now on that day she told Masilo, saying : I am going to ba-
the in the water. He gave her leave. Masilo went before her.
He arrived, sat down in the bush and hid himself. The wife
came afterwards ; she arrived, stood by the pool, and said :
Give me Lilahloane, that I may see her,
Lilahloane who has been cast off by Masilo.

The old woman brought the maiden out of the water. When
Masilo looked at the maiden, he saw that she was his child
whom her mother had said she was going to bury- He wondered,
he wept when he saw that his child was already grown up.
Presently the old woman said : I am afraid, it is as if somebody
was here spying. She took the maiden and went into the water
with her. The woman went home. Masilo also went home by
another way.

Masilo arrived and went into his hut ; it was still noon. His
mother was sitting in the reed enclosure. Masilo was crying
all the time because he had seen his child. 'Mamasilo said
presently : Why do you cry, Masilo ? He said : My head aches,
I am ill. At dusk he said to his wife I have seen my child at
the place where you said you were going to bury her; you bur-
ied her in the pool. I have seen that she is already a maiden.
The wife said : I do not know her, I buried her in the sand. He
implored his wife saying : Oho ! let me see my child. She said :
You will tell me to take her to your father to be eaten by him.
He said : I will not say any more that she should be eaten, be-
cause she is now grown up.

Next morning Thakane went to the old woman, she said : Ma-
silo saw us ; he says that I must come and beg you to give him
his daughter that he may see her. Then the old woman said :
You must give me a thousand head of cattle. She went home
to her husband and said : The old woman said that you must
give her a thousand head of cattle. He said : It is a small mat-
ter if it is only a thousand head of cattle ; if it were two thou-
sand I would still give her them, because without her my child
would be dead.

Next morning he sent one of the men of his court with the
order that messengers should go to all the people, and tell
them to bring all the cattle. They brought all the cattle ; a

Kiimonngoe 1 21

Masilo o re : Na ha a betoa ke metsi na ? Eaba o re : En-en, e
se e bile e le moroetsana, o bolotse, ke setsoajane. Eaba Masilo
ore: Ho ka khona ke etse joang? — Ka letsatsi le leng lee
mosali oa hao a reng o ea tola nōkeng, u tie u etelle pele. A
re : Na ha a ke a u bolella ? A re : O'a mpolelle. A re : U tie u
mo etelle pele, u e'o lula morunyaneng ; mosali etlare ha a fihla,
a fihle u se u ipatile morunyaneng.

Joale he ka letsatsi leo a bolella Masilo, a re : Ke ea hlapa
nōkeng. A mo lumella. Eaba Masilo o ea pele ; eaba o fihla,
a lula morunyaneng, a ipata. Mosali a tla kamorao, a fihla, a
ema bolibeng, a re :

'Neele Lilahloane, ke bone,
Lilahloane ea lahliloeng ke Masilo.

Joale setsoatsana sa mo hlahisa metsing moroetsana enoa.
Eitse Masilo ha a talima moroetsana enoa, a fihlela hoba ke
ngoan'a hae eo 'm'ae a itseng, o ea mo epela Joale he a ma-
kala, a 11a ha a bona ngoan'a hae a se a le moholo. Eaba se-
tsoatsana se re: Kea tšaba, eka motho e mong o teng ea
laletseng. Eaba he oa mo nka, o kena le eena bolibeng. Eaba
mosali o ea hae. Eaba Masilo le eena o ea ka lesele hae.

Masilo a fihla, a kena tlung motseare, 'm'ae a lula lapeng.
Eaba Masilo o nts'a 11a, hobane o bone ngoan'a hae. Eaba
'Mamasilo o re : U llel'ang, Masilo ? A re : Ke jeoa ke hloho, ke
bohloko. Eitse ka phirimana a re ho mosali : Ke bone ngoan'a
ka moo u itseng u ea mo epela ; u mo epetse bolibeng ; ke 'mo-
ne e le moroetsana. Edba mosali o re : Ha ke mo tsebe ; ke ne
ke mo epele lehlabatheng. Eaba o rapela mosali, a re : Oho,
ak'u ntjoentše ngoan'a ka. A re : U ka re ke mo ise ho ntat'ao,
a e'o jeoa. A re Nke ke ka hlola ke sa re a jeoe, hoba o se a
le moholo.

Eaba Thakane hosasane o se a ea ho setsoatsana, a re : Ma-
silo o re bone, o itse ke tl'o rapella ngoan'a hae, a ke a 'mone.
Eaba setsoatsana se re : Le tie le 'nee likhomo tse sekete, Ea-
ba o ea hae ho monna, a re : Qhekoana le itse u le nee khomo
tse sekete. Are: Ke nthoana e nyenyane ha e le kete se le
seng ; hoja e le kete tse peli ke ne ntse ke ea mo nea, hobane
ngoan'a ka a ka be a shoele.

Joale hosasane a roma monna oa lekhotla, a re ba ee le licha-
ba, ba tlise likhomo kaofela. Eaba ba tlisa likhomo kaofela ;
ea fihla ea e-ba sekete. Eaba li ea metsing, letšeng lena la

122 FOLK-TALES

thousand head of cattle came. The cattle went to the water,
to that pool with reeds. They came and stood outside. Then
her mother stood up and said :

Give me Lilahloane, that I may see her,
Lilahloane who has been cast off by Masilo.
Presently the old woman brought out the maiden. When she
came out of the water, the sun ceased to shine, it was darkened.
When she stood outside the sun shone again. Masilo saw his
child. All the people saw the child of Masilo, already a maiden,
where her mother had buried her. Then the cattle were thrown
into the water, but it was water on the surface only, underneath
it was where the tribe of that old woman was living.

They went home. Masilo's mother said that Thakane should
be sent home that her mother and brother might see her ; as for
her father, he was dead. A court messenger was sent, he gave
orders to the people ; they came with all their cattle ; they were
told that Thakane was going to be married.

They went. As they were still going on, and had arrived
near the nek through which Thakane and her father passed, on
the high road, they found that a rock had grown in the middle
of the nek. Thakane said to Masilo : What does that rock mean
there in the way, in the nek ? Masilo said : Perhaps you did
not notice it when you came with your father. She said: No,
it was merely a nek, that rock was not there. They were still
coming with the people and the cattle ; Thakane was going in
front, as it was she who knew the way to her village.

When they had arrived at the nek, and were near that rock,
the rock began to speak ; it said :

Rue le, le rue, I shall eat you, Thakane, my child,
You who lead the way ; I shall eat the people afterwards.
(That rock was Rahlabakoane ; his heart had become a rock.)1
Now his daughter said : All right, you may eat the cattle. She
said to Masilo : It is my father, he has come to lie in ambush
for me in the way. They took many cattle, they gave them to
that rock. The rock swallowed all these cattle, opening a huge
mouth.

Presently Rahlabakoane spoke again ; he said :
Rue le, le rue, I shall eat you, Thakane, my child,
You who lead the way ; I shall eat the people afterwards.
They took all the cattle and gave them to him. He swallowed
them. That rock, stopping the nek, said again :
Rue le, le rue, I shall eat you, Thakane, my child,
You who lead the way ; I shall eat the people afterwards.

I The episode of a man being changed to a rock, and of a rock eating people
is not known to me in any other story.

Kiimonngoe 1 23

lehlakana. Eaba li fihla li ema kantle. Eaba 'm'ae oa ema, a re :

'Neele Lilahloane, ke bone,
Lilahloane ea lahliloeng ke Masilo.
Eaba he setsoatsana sea mo tlisa moroetsana enoa. Eitse ha
a e-tsoa, eaba letsatsi lea timela, lea fifala. Eitse ha a se a erne
kantle, letsatsi la chaba. Masilo a bona ngoan'a hae ; lichaba
tsa bona ngoan'a Masilo e se e le moroetsana moo 'm'ae a mo
epetseng teng. Eaba he ho liheloa likhomo tsena metsing ;
athe metsi a kaholimo feela, kahare ke sechaba sa habo setsoa-
tsana sena.

Eaba ho uoa hae. Eaba 'm'ae a Masilo o re, joale Thakane
a isoe ha habo, a e'o bonoa ke 'm'ae le likhaitseli'e, ha ntat'ae a
se a shoele. Eaba ho rongoa monna oa lekhotla ; eaba o laela
sechaba ; sa tsoa le likhomo kaofela, ha thoe, ho ea nyaloa
Thakane.

Joale he eaba ba tsamaea. Ha ba tsamaea, ba fihla lekha-
long lee ba neng ba tsoa ka lona, ha ba na le ntat'ae 'mileng
o moholo ; ba fihlela lekhalo lena le melile lefika. Joale eaba
Thakane o re ho Masilo : Na lefika lena le lekhalong, tseleng,
ke la'ng ? Eaba Masilo o re : Ekaba u no u se ke ua le bona
mohla le tlang le ntat'ao. Eaba o re : En-en, e be e le lekhalo
feela, lefika lena le be le le sieo. Eaba ba ntse ba e-tla le ma-
khomo le batho ba bang ; Thakane o nts'a eteletse pele, eena a
tsebang tsela ea habo.

Ha ba fihla lekhalong, ha ba le haufi le lefika leo, eaba
lefika lea bua, le re :

Rue le, le rue, ke tla ja uena, Thakane ngoan'a ka,
U eteletseng pele, ke tie ke qetelle ka batho.
(Lefika lena ke Rahlabakoane, pelo ea hae e fetohile lefika.)
Joale he eaba ngoan'a moroetsana o re : E, le likhomo u ka li
ja. A re ho Masilo : Ke ntate, o tlile ho ntulela tseleng. Eaba
ba kakola likhomo li le ngata, ba li nea lefika lena. Eaba lefi-
ka le metsa likhomo tsena kaofela, le ahlamisitse molomo o
moholo.

A boela a bua Rahlabakoane a re :

Rue le, le rue, ke tla ja uena, Thakane ngoan'a ka,
U eteletseng pele, ke tie ke qetelle ka batho.
Eaba ba nka likhomo tsena kaofela, ba mo nea; a li metsa.
ILe thibile khalo lefika lena ; le boile le re :

Rue le, le rue, ke tla ja uena, Thakane ngoan'a ka,
U eteletseng pele, ke tie ke qetelle ka batho.

124 FOLK-TALES

The daughter said : You may eat the people too. Her father
ate them.

As they' were trying to pass on, he stopped them. He said again :
Rue le, le rue, I shall eat you, Thakane, my child,
You who lead the way ; I shall eat the people afterwards.

She took all these unfortunate people, she gave them to her
father ; all were eaten. There remained only Thakane and
Masilo and their two children, Lilahloane and a younger one.
As they were trying to pass the rock stopped the way. It said
again :

Rue le, le rue, I shall eat you, Thakane, my child,

You who lead the way ; I shall eat the people afterwards.

She gave herself up to her father with her husband and her
children ; all of them were eaten, they went into her father's
belly.

Inside there was a cavern ; they found there a boy, already
a young man, who was cutting the belly, making a hole in it
The people were vainly telling him : You will bring harm on
us. He went on cutting pieces of flesh ; he cut it, he cut it, he
cut it, he cut it, he opened up a door. And then it died, that
rock, it fell down.

Now the people came out of it, many people came out of it ;
there only remained the rotten ones, whom it had eaten long
ago. The people who had just entered it went out, also others,
and also the cattle still living and walking in the belly of that
rock. The people went home, so did also Red Kaffirs carrying
their medicines. All, all these people went to their homes1

Then that woman and her husband went to her mother's village.
When they arrived it was like a miracle, because her mother and
brother knew nothing about her. They sat down, they wept, they
were sorrowful. Cattle were slaughtered ; that woman and her
husband were well received.

It is the end of the tale.

I People swallowed by a big monster and coming out of its belly still living
is an incident much liked in Bantu tales (cf. the notes to Moshanyana oa Senkatana,
No. XI). Here there is this difference that the animal is rent open from the
inside by a boy who has been swallowed by it. The same thing is found in Kaf-
fir tales (THEAL, op. cit. p. 79) where the inabidele swallows Sikuhime, and he

Kumonngoc 12 5

Ngoan'a moroetsana a re : Le bona batho u ka ba ja. Eaba
ntat'ae oa ba ja.

Ha ba re ba feta, a thibe. A boea a re :

Rue le, le rue, ke tla ja uena, Thakane ngoan'a ka,
U eteletseng pele, ke tie ke qetelle ka batho.
A nka batho bana ba batho kaofela, a ba nea ntat'ae; ba
jeoa kaofela. Ha sala bona le Masilo, le bana ba bona ba ba-
beli, Lilahloane le e mong e monyenyane. Eaba ha ba re ba ea
tsoa, la thiba lefika lena. Le boile le re :

Rue le, le rue, ke tla ja uena, Thakane ngoan'a ka,
U eteletseng pele, ke tie ke qetelle ka batho.
Eaba o se a inehela ntat'ae, le monna oa hae le bana ba hae;
eaba ba jeoa kaofela, ba kena mpeng ea ntat'a bona.

Kahare e ne e le lehaha ; joale ba fihlela moshanyana ka
teng, e le mohlankanyana, a 'na a lirela mpa ena, a e phunya
Ba re ka re : Ua re bakeletsa, linama a li khephola, a li khepho-
la, a li khephola, a li khephola, a li khephola, a phunya mojako.
Joale he eaba lea shoa lefika lena, la ba la oa.

Eaba batho ba tsoa, ba bangata ba tsoa; ha sala ba bolileng
baa le ne le ba je khale; ha tsoa bana ba tsoa kena bocha le ba
bang, le likhomo tsena li ntse li utloa, li tsamaea ka mpeng ea
lefika lena. Joale eaba ba ea ha habo le Matebele a ne a jere
lihlare ; bohle-bohle ba lichaba ba hopola ha habo.

Eaba moroetsana eo le monna oa hae ba ea ha habo ; ba fihla
eka mohlolo, hobane 'm'ae le khaitseli'e ba sa tsebe. Joale eaba
ba lula ; joale ba 11a, ba utloa bohloko. Ha hlajoa likhomo, ha
amoheloa moroetsana le monna oa hae.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

pierces it from inside and (ibid. p. 164) where a woman kills the great chief of
the animals. Cf. the Kaffir story of Little Red Stomach (Folk-Lore Journal, I, p.
27) and the Zulu tale of U nanana-Bosele (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 335). An un-
published Zambezi tale collected by me gives the same incident.

126 FOLK-TALES

XVIII
MONYOHE <

There was a maiden called Senkepeng, sister of Masilo. Se-
nkepeng refused to be married. On a certain day they went
to a singing party at Morakapula's. They arrived ; they sang,
they sang the whole day. In the afternoon Morakapula called
for rain, saying that Senkepeng refused to dance with him.2 It
rained, it rained the whole night.

Morakapula gave the order to his people not to allow Senke-
peng into their huts ; they must drive her out. Senkepeng went
to an old woman, saying : Allow me to come into your hut. The
old woman said : My hut is full. Senkepeng said : I shall kill
you. She said then : Come into the hut. She went in and slept.
The night cleared off. Then Masilo said : Let us go and re-
turn home. Morakapula said to Masilo : All the rivers are full.
Masilo said : We will cross them.

They went away, Masilo's people, to return home. They
found that the river was full. They crossed ; Senkepeng was
in their midst, but the river forced her back.3 They came back,
they fetched her, took her, held her fast, and went into the
water with her ; it forced her back again. Then Masilo came
himself. Masilo said when he was near her : Senkepeng, why
do you stay here ? She said : I cannot come ; as soon as I go
into the water it forces me back. Masilo said : Come here, I
shall hold you. She came, he held her, went into the water
with her. It forced her back. Masilo came back, fetched her

I This tale and the three following ones are all related ; they all tell the
story of the snake husband. They may be said to be different variants of the
same tale. It seems to be a popular subject in South African folklore. Among
the Zulus we have the tales of Untombinde (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 6l) which is in
many ways a parallel to ours, of Umamba (ibid. p. 322), which has a greater re-
semblance to the Ba-Suto story of Polo and Khoahlakhubelu, and of Umambakama-
qula (Folk-Lore Journal, I, p. 712) which most resembles the tale of Malianc
(No. XIX). In Kaffir lore we have the stories of Long Snake (probably incomp-
lete) and of Five Heads (Theal, op. cit. pp. 50 and 145), which are parallel
to the story of Maliane. In Gazaland there is also a story of the same kind, The
wife of the serpent (Revue des Trad, pop. 1895, p. 471). The story as told on the

Monyohe \2J

XVIII
MONYOHE

Ba re e ne e le Senkepeng oabo Masilo. Senkepeng a hana
ho nyaloa. Eitse ka tsatsi le leng, ha uoa pineng ha Morakapula.
Joale ha fihloa, ha binoa. ha binoa letsatsi lohle. Eitse motšeare
oa mantsiboea, Morakapula a mema pula, are Senkepeng o hana
ho tjeka le eena. Eaba pula ea na, ea na bosiu bohle.

Morakapula a laela batho hore ba hanele Senkepeng ho kena
matlung, ba mo lelekise. Senkepeng a ea ha leqhekoana la
mosali, a re : Ntšuthele, ke kene ka tlung. Leqhekoana la re :
Ntlo e tletse. Senkepeng a re : Kea u bolaea. Eaba o re : Kena
ka tlung. A kena, a robala. Bosiu ba e-sa. Eaba Masilo ore:
Ha re tsamaeeng, re boele ha eso. Morakapula a re ho Masilo :
Nōkana li tletse kaofela. Masilo a re : Re tla tšela.

Eaba ba tsoa he ba ha Masilo ho ea hae. Ba fihlela nōka e
tletse. Ba tsela, Senkepeng a le har'a bona, nōkana ea mo
khutlisetsa kamorao. Ba khutle, ba mo late, ba mo kuke, ba mo
tšoare, ba kene le eena ; e mo khutlisetse kamorao, ho fihlela
Masilo a fihla. Masilo ha a fihla a re : Senkepeng, u luletse'ng
moo ? A re : Ke sitoa ho tšela ; ere ha ba kena metsing metsi a
nkhutlisetse morao. Masilo a re : Tlo koano, ke u tsoare. A tla,
a mo tšoara, a kena le eena. Ea mo khutlisetsa morao. Masilo
a khutla, a mo lata, a kena le eena ; ea mo khutlisetsa morao.
A mo tlohela, Masilo, a tsamaea.

Zambezi (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 79 and Textes Louyi, p. 67) is much
simpler and bereft of its marvellous elements.

2 Morakapula, as his name indicates, has power over the rain like the husband
of Molisa-oa-lipoli in the Ba-Suto tale of that name (JACOTTET, Contes pop. p.
153) who prevents rain from falling. In refusing to dance with him Senkepeng
showed that she did not want to marry him. According to the song she sings
afterwards it would rather appear to be Morakapula's son she refused to dance
with.

3 It is probably owing to Morakapula's spell that the river does not allow of
Senkepeng crossing.

128 FOLK-TALES

and went into the water with her ; it forced her back.1 Masilo
left her and went on.
Senkepeng said :

Masilo of my mother, alas ! alas ! alas !
Masilo of my mother, alas ! alas ! alas !
Go and tell my mother at home, alas ! alas ! alas !
Tell her that all the rivers are full, alas ! alas ! alas !
Even the Motikoe river2 is full, alas ! alas ! alas !
I have refused the son of Morakapula, alas ! alas ! alas !
Masilo said :

Senkepeng 'abo Kali-a-Tsoloe,3 alas ! alas ! alas !
Senkepeng 'abo Kali-a-TsDloe alas ! alas ! alas !
Go down along the river of Motikoe, alas ! alas ! alas !
Go on, hiding yourself in the flotsam of the stream, alas ! alas ! alas !
All, all the rivers are full, alas 1 alas ! alas !
Even the Motikoe river is full, alas ! alas ! alas !
They parted so. Masilo went on. Senkepeng also went on,
going down along the Motikoe river, still carrying her thomo.4
When she stopped, she found a heap of asparagus plants which
the river had carried there ; she opened it and entered there.
Her thomo remained outside, the staff of the thomo projecting
above. It was near a fountain. At morning 'Mamonyohe went
to the fountain ; she saw the thomo which was projecting. She
said : What is it that projects so ? She went, arrived, opened the
heap of asparagus, and said : Ah ! ah ! I have found a beautiful
wife for my son ; come out, my daughter-in-law;5 let us go home.
Senkepeng came out, still carrying her thomo.

They went home ; they arrived and entered 'Mamonyohe's
hut. 'Mamonyohe found that oxen and sheep had already been
slaughtered, a quantity of strong beer had been brewed, much
bread had been cooked. It was food that had been cooked for
Monyohe ; Monyohe was living inside the roof of the hut, being
seen by nobody. 'Mamonyohe said : Take this food and carry
it to your husband ; yonder is the hut of your husband.

She took a full load of meat in a basket, and carried it ; she
arrived, entered the hut, put it down, and went out. She took
a pot of beer, went and put it down. She went to take the bread ;
she arrived and put it down. She went to take thick milk ; she
arrived and put it down. She went out and returned to 'Mamo-
nyohe. She received this order : Go and bring back the utensils

1 This first part of our tale often forms the beginning of the story of Masilo
and Thakane (No. XIII).

2 The Motikoe river is unknown.

3 Senkepeng 'abo Kali-a-Tsoloe means Senkepeng, sister (or relative) of Kali,
son of Tsoloe. In the following version she is called Senkepeng.oa Kaliana (daugh-
ter of Kaliana).

Monyohe 1 29

Senkepeng a re :

Masilo 'a 'mè, ho ea na ea lela,
Masilo 'a 'mè, ho ea na ea Ma,
U ee u joele 'mè hae, ho ea na ea lela,
U re nōkana li tletse tsohle, ho ea na ea lela,
Ho bile ho tletse le nōkana ea Motikoe, ho ea na ea lela,
Ke hanne ngoana oa Morakapula, ho ea na ea lela,
Masilo a re :

Senkepeng 'abo Kali-'a-Tsoloe, ho ea na ea lela,
Senkepeng 'abo Kali-'a-Tsoloe, ho ea na ea lela,
U 'no u theose le nōkana ea Motikoe, ho ea na ea lela,
U tsamaea, u ikuta-kute matlakaleng, ho ea na ea lela,
Nōkana li tletse tsohle-tsohle, ho ea na ea lela,
Ho bile ho tletse le nōkana ea Motikoe, ho ea na ea lela,
Joale ba khaohana he. Masilo a tsamaea. Senkepeng le
eena oa tsamaea, a 'ne a theose nōkana ea Motikoe, a nts'a nkile
thomō ea hae. Ha a fihla, a fihlela maunyeli a mahoholi, a a
phetla, a kena teng. Thomō ea sala kantle, thupa ea thomō ea
sala e hlahile. Ke pel'a seliba. Hosasane 'Mamonyohe a ea
selibeng, a bona thomō e hlahile, a re : Ntho e hlahileng ee
ke'ng ? Eaba oa ea, a fihla, a phetla mahoholi, a re : Jo 'na, ka
bonela ngoan'a ka mosali e motle ; tsoa, ngoan'a mokhotsi, re
ee hae. Eaba oa tsoa, o nts'a nkile thomō ea hae.

Ba ea hae ; ba fihla, ba kena ka ha 'Mamonyohe. 'Mamo-
nyohe a fihlela ho hlabiloe likhomo le linku, ho ritetsoe majoala,
ho apehiloe mahobe; ke lintho tse apehetsoeng Monyohe, Mo-
nyohe a lula sehlohlolong sa ntlo, a sa bonoe. 'Mamonyohe a
re: Nka lijo tsena, u li isetse rrionna oa hao ; ntlo ke eane ea
monna oa hao.

A nka mohlomelo oa nama ka seroto, a o isa ; a fihla a kena,
a o bea ; a tsoa. A nka joala ka nkho ; a fihla a bo bea. A
ea nka bohobe; a fihla a bo bea. A ea nka mafi ; a fihla a a
bea. A tsoa, a ea ka ha 'Mamonyohe. Ha thoe : Tsamaea u
eo nka lintho tseo u isitseng nama ka tsona mane ha hao. A
ea, a fumana ho se ho se letho, e se e le masapo feela. A ma-

4 The thomo is a musical instrument formed of a long staff with a string, just
like a bow, on which is placed a gourd. It gives a very monotonous and rather
plaintive melody.

5 Lit. child of my mokhotsi. The mokhotsi is the father or mother of one's
son or daughter-in-law.

130 FOLK-TALES

on which you have taken the meat yonder to your hut. She went
and found that nothing remained, only the bones were left.
She wondered, saying : What invisible thing is eating that food
and finishing it off in an instant ?

She arrived ; the mother said : Take some kaffir corn, my
dear, and grind it for your husband. She took the kaffir corn,
ground it and cooked it. She took the bread out of the pots,
she dished up the meat, she poured out the thick milk. She
carried the food on her head and took it there. Monyohe ate it,
finishing it up. She was sent again to go and bring back the
pots in which Monyohe's food had been sent. She found that
nothing of it remained.1

The sun set. At sleeping time she was told : Go and sleep
at your husband's. She went, arrived and slept on the ground •
she did not see anything at all.2 When the night was about to
end, she felt Monyohe striking her with his tail, saying: I am
going to take snuff, I am going to creep.3 She rose, went out,,
took a pitcher, went to the fountain and drew water. She found
that 'Mamonyohe had already kindled a fire, that the meat was
in the pot, that cattle had been slaughtered.

As soon as she arrived, 'Mamonyohe said : Take some kaffir
corn, grind it and cook it for your husband. She took kaffir corn,
ground it, cooked it ; she dished up the meat, carried the food
on her head, brought it to Monyohe. She was sent again, and
told she must fetch the pots from yonder. There was no rest
all that day ; cooking went on the whole day. When the sun
set, at sleeping time, she went to her hut and slept. When the
night was about to end, she felt Monyohe striking her with his
tail, saying : I am going to take snuff, I am going to creep. She
began to grow thin.

Some people of the village said to her : Why do you stay
here, you poor child ? Why don't you go home ? Look at all
this big tribe, all the girls have been unable to stay at 'Mamo-
nyohe's. She said : I don't know how to go home. But on a
certain day she went out, took her pitcher, put it down near
the fountain, and then went down ; she was on her way to go
home. She went on, she went on, she went on ; the sun rose
when she was already far away.

Monyohe began to move over yonder in his hut ; a strong
wind blew when Monyohe came out of his hut. The people

1 The feature of much food being eaten by the invisible husband is found in
nearly all the parallel stories.

2 In all Ba-Suto versions Monyohe lives in the roof of the hut. In the Zulu
story of Untombinde the man serpent Unthlatu (lit. the boa-man) lives under-

Monyohe 131

kala, are: Ntho tsee li jeoa ke'ng e sa bonoeng, li qetoa ka
nako e le 'ngoe?

A fihla; ha thoe : U qotse mabele, mokhotsi, u silele raonna
oa hao. A nka mabele, a a sila, a apeha ; ha tšoloa bohobe, ha
tsoloa nama, ha tšoloa mafi. Oa roala, oa isa. Hoa jeoa, hoa
qetoa ke Monyohe. Oa rongoa ; ho thoe a e'o lata lipitsa tse
neng li iselitse Monyohe. Ho fumanoa ho se ho se letho.

Tsatsi lea likela. Ka nako ea ho robala, ho thoe: Tsamaea,
u e'o robala ha hao. Oa ea, oa fihla, o robala fatše; ha a bone
letho feela. Ka masiu a roalella, a utloa Monyohe a se a mo
otla ka mohatla, a re : Kea tsuba, kea checha. A tsoha, a tsoela
kantle, a nka nkho, a ea selibeng, a kha metsi. A fumana
'Mamonyohe a se a besitse mollo, ho tlhatlehiloe linama, ho
hlabiloe likhomo.

Ha a fihla, 'Mamonyohe a re : Qotsa mabele, u sile, u apehele
monna oa hao. A qotsa mabele. a sila, a apeha; a tšola, a roa-
la, a isa ha Monyohe. Oa rongoa, ho thoe a e'o lata lipitsa
koana. Ha ho phomoloe le motšeare ona 'ohle, ho apehuoa
letsatsi lena lohle. Letsatsi ha le likela, ka nako ea ho robala,
a ea thing, a robala. Ha bosiu bo roalella, a utloa Monyohe a
se a mo otla ka mohatla : Kea tsuba, kea checha. A ota.

Ba bang ba re ho eena ba motse, ba re : U luletse'ng moo,
ngoan'a batho ? Ha u ee ha eno ? Chaba sena ha se le joanana,
baroetsana kaofela ba se ba khutla ha 'Mamonyohe moo. A re :
Ha ke tsebe ha eso. Eitse ka tsatsi le leng, a tsoa, a nka nkho,
a fihla, a e bea selibeng, a theoha ; anthe o nkile tsela e eang
habo. A tsamaea, a tsamaea, a tsamaea ; tsatsi la mo chabela
hole.

A sisinyeha Monyohe ka tlung ea hae mane ; ha foka moea o
moholo, Monyohe ha a tsoa ka tlung. Batho ea e-ba : Hlahang

ground, like Bulane in the Ba-Suto story of Bulane and Senkepeng (No. XXII) or
the husband of Molisa-oa-lipoli.

3 It is difficult to understand the real meaning of Monyohe's words, though
it is easy to render their literal sense.

132 FOLK-TALES

shouted : Come and see that big thing which comes out from
'Mamonyohe's hut. He went in fiery haste, Monyohe, in pur-
suit of Senkepeng.1 As Senkepeng was looking behind her,
she cried : Oh ! I am going to die to-day. The serpent drew
near to her. She said : What can I do ? She said :2

Child of my sister, sing, and let us see,

Child of my sister, sing, and let us see.
The serpent began to coil itself up. She resumed her walk
and went on. She went on, she went on. When she looked
behind she saw that 'Mamonyohe had left her home, carrying
the hide of a black ox, in pursuit of Monyohe. When she looked
behind again, Senkepeng saw a cloud of dust. The serpent
arrived and stood erect upon her. She said :

Child of my sister, sing, and let us see,

Child of my sister, sing, and let us see.
It sang too ; while it was singing she went on, and came to
two herd boys who were herding the cattle of her village. The
herd boys cried : What ! it is Senkepeng ! Where does she come
from ? She said to them : Do you see that dust yonder ? They
said : Yes. She said : That thing which is coming is a serpent;
it is pursuing me ; go home and tell the people. They went,
the herd boys, to tell the people ; they said : Senkepeng is com-
ing, pursued by a serpent. They went out, the people of her
village, taking razors, knives, pointed irons and sharp pegs. They
planted them at the cattle gate, where the cattle had to pass
when coming up. The serpent arrived near Senkepeng. Sen-
kepeng sang to it :

Child of my sister, sing, and let us see,

Child of my sister, sing, and let us see.
When it was still singing she went on, and arrived. When
she arrived at the courtyard of her parents, she fell down
on her stomach. The serpent arrived ; it arrived tired, not hav-
ing any more force, creeping on its belly. The razors cut it,
the knives divided it ; it then died.3

'Mamonyohe arrived, saying : Alas ! my child, alas ! my child
has died quite alone ; where shall I take him ? She said : Give
me a black ox. They gave her a black ox. She said: Kill it.
They killed it. She drew together the body of her child, gath-
ered it, wrapped it in the hide and burned it. It was con sumed,
it became a black cinder. She took the kaross she had brought

1 In the most of Ba-Suto versions, as well as in the Zulu story of Umambaka.
maqula and the Kaffir story of Long Snake, the serpent's wife flees and is pursued
in the same way as here. In the tale from Gazaland the serpent swallows his
wife to hinder her flight ; he then vomits her and she remains with him.

2 Senkepeng's song is rather difficult of interpretation. The translation we

Monyohe 1 33

le bone ntho e tsoang ka tlung ha 'Mamonyohe. A hoballa Mo-
nyohe moo a latang Senkepeng. Senkepeng eitse ha a sheba
kamorao, a re : Oo ! ke hoo ho shoa ha ka kajeno. Ea fihla ho
eena mona. A re : Ke tla etsa joang na ? A re :

Ngoan'a ngoan'eso, bina mokata re bone, bina mokata re bone,
Ngoan'a ngoan'eso, bina mokata re bone, bina mokata re bone.
Joale noha e sa le e itse e menahane. A tsoe, a tsamaee. A
tsamaea, a tsamaea. Ha a sheba kamorao, a bona hoba 'Ma-
monyohe o tlohile hae, a nkile mokhahla oa khomo e ntšo, a
setse Monyohe morao. Eare ha a talima morao, Senkepeng a
bona lerōle. E fihle, e mo okamele. A re :

Ngoan'a ngoan'eso, bina mokata re bone, bina mokata re bone,
Ngoan'a ngoan'eso, bina mokata re bone, bina mokata re bone.
Eare e sala e ntse e bina, a tsamaea, a ba a fihla balisaneng
ba khomo tsa habo. Balisana ba habo : Jo 'na, Senkepeng o
tsoa kae ? A re ho bona : Rōle lela lea le bona lela ? Ba re : E.
A re : Ntho eane e tlang ke noha, e ntse e ntsetse morao ; e-eang
hae, le e'o bolella batho. Ba ea balisana ho ea bolella batho,
ba re : Senkepeng oa tla, o nts'a setsoe ke noha kamorao. Ba
tsoe bahabo, ba nke mahare, le lithipa, le litseloa, le lithakhisa.
Ba li hlome tseleng ea likhomo, moo likhomo li nyolohelang
teng. E fihle ho Senkepeng. Senkepeng a e binele :

Ngoan'a ngoan'eso, bina mokata re bone, bina mokata re bone,

Ngoan'a ngoan'eso, bina mokata re bone, bina mokata re bone.

Eare e sala e ntse e bina, a tsamaea, a ba a fihla. Eitse ha a

fihla ka lapeng habo a ba a otla ka sebete fatse. Ea fihla ; eitse

ha e fihla khorong e khathetse, e se e se na matla, e hulana ka

mpa. Mahare a e seha, le lithipa tsa e patsola, ea ba ea e-shoa.

A fihle 'Mamonyohe, a re : Ngoan'a ka, jo ! ngoan'a ka a shoa
a le mong. Ke tla mo nka kae ? Eaba o re : 'Neeleng khomo e
ntso. Ba mo nea khomo e ntšo. A re : E bolaeeng. Eaba ba
e bolaea. Eaba o phutha ngoana enoa oa hae, a mo bokella, a
mo phutha ka letlalo leo, a mo besa ; a cha, ea e-ba lehoko le
letšo. Eaba o nka mokhahla 00 a tlang ka oona hae, eaba o

give is half guessed. Her song is a kind of spell which keeps Monyohe behind ;
it obliges him to sing also, and so detains him.

3 In some of the versions Monyohe is killed in the same way ; in others he
is burned in the hut in which he has been received.

134 FOLK-TALES

from home, she gathered into it the ashes of her son, she
gathered them into the ox's kaross. She carried it on her head,
went to the pool ; she arrived, threw it into the pool, all the
people being assembled there together near the pool.

She began to go round the pool ; she went round it, she went
round it, she went round it. Then when her son came out of
the water, he came out being now a man, no more a serpent,,
being a beautiful man.1 Senkepeng said : Oh ! oh ! how beauti-
ful my husband is. They went up, went to Senkepeng's parents.
They married her, he became her husband. When they went
away, they went to go and fetch cattle to pay Senkepeng's
dowry. She became the wife of Monyohe.
It is the end of the tale.

XIX

MONYOHE

They say there was Monyohe ; he was a serpent ; his mother
took him a wife. No fire was ever made in Monyohe's hut, be-
cause he lived under the roof. His mother used to bring him
food. One day his mother went to fetch his wife ; she brought
her to her hut ; Monyohe's hut was at a distance. Then the
mother said to the wife : My daughter-in-law, take this food
and carry it to yonder hut ; when you arrive put it on the ground.
She took the food, arrived at the hut, and put it on the ground ;
then she came back. On the way she said : I wonder when I
shall perhaps see my husband. She went on, arrived, sat down.
The mother went to Monyohe's hut, arrived, took the utensils,
and came back with them ; she used to do so always.

I Monyohe's resurrection in the guise of a beautiful young man is also found
in most other versions, see Nos. XIX and XX as well as the Zulu tale of Uma-
mbakamaqula. In the Kaffir story of Long Snake and the two Zambezi tales it is
burned for good. In the tale from Gazaland it is burned but comes back to life,
still as a serpent, and then swallows its wife, her parents and its own mother.
It is ultimately killed by the people of its own village. In the Zulu tale of U-

Monyohe 135

olla lehoko lena la ngoan'a hae, a le olla mokhahleng oo oa
khomo. A le roala, a le isa letšeng ; a fihla, a le tšela letšeng,
batho ba phuthehile, ba bokane mona pel'a letša.

Eaba o nts'a pota letša, a le pota, a le pota, a le pota. Eitse
ha a hlaha metsing ngoan'a hae, a hlaha e le motho, e se e se
noha, e le motho e motle. Senkepeng a re : Jo 'na, monn'a ka
e motle ! Eaba ba nyoloha, ba ea habo Senkepeng. Eaba ba
mo nyala, ea e-ba monna oa hae. Eitse mohla ba tlohang, ba
Iheoha ho se ho latoa khomo tse tla nyala Senkepeng. Ea e-ba
mohats'a Monyohe.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XIX

iMONYOHE

Ba re e ne e re e le Monyohe, e le noha ; 'm'ae a mo nyalla
mosali. Joale Monyohe ho no ho sa besoe ka thing ea hae,
hobane o b'a hila sehlohlolong. Joale 'm'ae a 'na a mo tlisetsa
lijo. Eitse ka mohlomong 'm'ae a lata mosali oa hae, a mo tlisa
mona ha hae, Monyohe a hahetsoe ntlo thōko. Joale 'm'ae a re
ho mosali oa hae : Ngoan'a mokhotsi, nka lijo tsena, u ise tlung
eane ; u fihle u li bee. A li nka, a fihla a li bea; eaba oa khu-
tla. Eitse ha a le tseleng, eaba o re : Na ekaba monna oa ka
ke tla 'mona neng ? Eaba oa tsamaea, a fihla, a lula hae. 'M'ae
a ea ha Monyohe, a fihla a nka lipitsana ; eaba o khutla le tso-
na ; a 'ne a etse joalo ka mehla.

ntombinde, Unthlatu was not really a serpent, but a man who had been put into
the skin of a serpent. Five Heads in the Kaffir story becomes a man without
being burned. It seems pretty certain that the Ba-Suto version of the tale is
the original one.

2 For the parallel stories see the first note of the preceding story.

136 FOLK-TALES

One day 'Mamonyohe said : My child, go to yonder hut, it is
where you must sleep. She went. The mother said : Take
some fire, but don't make any smoke; light only with some fat.
She went on doing so for days ; a month passed. One day she
said : Why do they say that I must not make any smoke ? and
where does the food go in this hut ... ? She took dry dung and
made a fire. When the smoke was thick, Monyohe came down
from above ; he struck her with his tail, he struck her. After a
long time she went out of the hut and ran away, she ran away,
Monyohe still striking her. She went on, singing :

Senkepeng oa Kaliana, I have been married by Monyohe.

She went on speaking so ; she arrived near some herd boys.
When Monyohe was approaching, the herd boys said : See !
see ! — they were speaking to other herd boys — what is that
thing which is coming ? They said: Sharpen your knives.

He arrived, Monyohe ; he passed on. The wife was now very
near the village. He came up to her and struck her. Her relat-
ives said : Look at that dust ! But they did not know that it
was their daughter who was coming. Then Monyohe left her.
She arrived singing :

Senkepeng oa Kaliana, I have been married by Monyohe.

As she arrived she said : Look at that dust which is appearing
yonder. He arrived, Monyohe. When he came, being still at
a distance, they went out to stop him. He arrived, stood outside,
and went into a dog's kennel.

'Mamonyohe was crying yonder; she was saying: My child!
people are going to kill him. She went to the village of Mo-
nyohe's wife. When she arrived, she asked them : Where is
Senkepeng ? They said : She is here. She said : Call her. Se-
nkepeng came ; the mother said : What have you done, my daugh-
ter-in-law ? I have told you so often not to make any smoke. Se-
nkepeng said : I felt cold. The mother said : Where is my son?
She said : He is there in the kennel.

She went ; she said : Slaughter a black ox. They slaughtered
it, they flayed it. She took its hide ; she went to gather much
firewood, came near and made a big fire near the kennel. She
gave some strong beer to Monyohe. Monyohe drank it and was
drunk. Then she made a big fire. Monyohe was burned, he
died, he was reduced to ashes. When he had been reduced to
ashes, the mother removed the ashes of the wood ; she took
Monyohe's ashes and wrapped them in the hide.1 She put the

I See BLEEK, Reynard the Fox, p. 55, where the heart of a woman eaten by a
lion is put in a calabash with milk and grows till it becomes a young woman
again.

Monyohe 137

Ka tsatsi le leng 'Mamonyohe a re: Ngoan'a ka, e-ea tlung
eane, u e'o robala teng. Joale a ea. A re : U nke mollo, u se
ke ua ba ua besa mosi, u banese ka tšotso feela. Joale a etsa
joalo ka matsatsi, ha ba ha feta khoeli. Eitse ka tsatsi le leng
a re : Moo ho thoeng ke se ke ka besa mosi, 'me le lijo li fella
tlung eo ... !2 Joale a nka lisu, eaba oa besa. Eitse ha mosi o
e-ba mongata, Monyohe a theoha holimo, a mo otla ka mohatla,
a mo otia. Eitse e le khale a tsoa ka tlung, a baleha, a baleha,
a nts'a mo otla Monyohe. A tsamaea, a nts'a re :

Senkepeng oa Kaliana ke nyetsoe ke Monyohe.

A tsamaea a nts'a rialo, a b'a fihla ho balisana. Eitse ha Mo-
nyohe a fihla, balisana ba re: Bonang, bonang, — ba bolella
balisana ba bang — ntho eo e tlang ke'ng ? Ba re: Leotsang
lithipa.

A fihla, a feta Monyohe. Joale mosali o se a atametse hae.
A fihla ho eena, a mo otla. Babo ba re : Bonang lerōle ! athe
ha ba tsebe hobane ke ngoan'a bona. Eaba oa mo tlohela Mo-
nyohe. A fihla hae, a re :

Senkepeng oa Kaliana ke nyetsoe ke Monyohe.
Eitse ha a e-tla, a re: Bonang lerōle le hlahang lane, ke lona.
A. fihla. Eitse ha a sa tla, a sa le hole, ba tsoela ntle, ba mo
thiba. A fihla, a ema kantle ; eaba o kena serobeng sa lintja.

'Mamonyohe koana hae o nts'a 11a, o nts'a re : Ngoan'a ka
batho ba 'molaea. Joale a ea habo mosali oa Monyohe. Ha a
fihla, a ba botsa, a re : Senkepeng o kae ? Ba re : O teng. Eaba
o re : Mpitsetseng eena. Senkepeng a tla ; are: Na u entse'ng,
ngoan'a mokhotsi ? Ke u laile hakale, ke re u se ke ua ba ua
besa mosi. Eaba Senkepeng o re : Ke be ke hatsetse. Eaba
'm'ae o re : Ngoan'a ka o kae ? Eaba o re : Ke eno ka serobeng.

Eaba oa ea, a re : Ntlhabeleng khomo e ntšo. Ba e hlaba, ba
e bua. Eaba o nka letlalo la eona, eaba o roalla patsi e ngata,
a fihla, a besa mollo ka serobeng ka patsi, a fa Monyohe joala.
Monyohe a noa, a tahoa. Eaba o besa mollo o moholo. Monyo-
he a cha, a ba a shoa, ea ba ea e-ba molora. Eitse ha e se e
le molora, eaba o ntšetsa molora oa patsi kantle ; eaba o khetha
molora ona oa Monyohe, a o phuthela letlalong. Eaba o o bea

2 The sentence is left unfinished ; the understood words would be, if expressed :
ntho e leng teng ke 'ng f what is that there ?

138 FOLK-TALES

hide in a hut and put on it a pot turned upside down. She
stayed there.

One day she uncovered it and found the hide moving slightly.
She took fresh dung and stopped the pot closely. Then she
left and went home. She said toSenkepeng: Watch over this
pot of mine; do not uncover it, it must uncover itself. On a
certain day it uncovered itself.

Senkepeng went to 'Mamonyohe; she said: Your pot has
uncovered itself. 'Mamonyohe hastened to go, taking with her
fat and ochre and antimony and mica. She arrived, smeared
the pot, and found in it a young man just like one out of the
circumcision. She told him : My child, you must love your wife,
because it is she who has made you what you are. She called Se-
nkepeng. Senkepeng came. She told Senkepeng : This is your
husband. Senkepeng rejoiced much. Then they went home.

After they had arrived home, Senkepeng gave birth to a
child. Monyohe said : My child must not be weaned. 'Mamo-
nyohe said that it must be weaned. Monyohe went to the. sum-
mer pastures. Then the woman weaned his child. When the
cattle came back, Monyohe came and found that they had
weaned it. He said to Senkepeng : Suckle my child. Senke-
peng said: Don't you know that it has been weaned by your
mother? Monyohe asked his mother: Who said that this child
of mine was to be weaned? 'Mamonyohe said: It was I. Then
Monyohe struck his wife. His wife ran away from home.

When she had arrived at her parents', Monyohe went too. Her
parents said : Senkepeng, go back to your home at your hus-
band's. They said to the young men of the village: Accompany
her. They accompanied them. When they arrived ai the open
country they killed Monyohe. Monyohe died. His mother
came to fetch him ; her also they killed.1

It is the end of the tale.

I This last part of Monyohe's story probably did not belong to it originally.

Monyohe 139

ka tlung, a o ribeha ka pitsa e kholo. Eaba oa lula.

Ka tsatsi le leng a koaholla, a fumana letlalo le ntse le
kunya-kunya. Eaba o nka bolokoe, oa bitiela ; eaba oa tloha,
a ea ha hae. A re ho Senkepeng : U lebele pitsa eo ea ka, u
se ke ua ba ua e koaholla, e be e ikoaholle. Eitse ka tsatsi le
leng ea ikoaholla.

Senkepeng a ea ho 'Ma monyohe, a re : Pitsa ea hao e ikoa-
holotse. 'Mamonyohe a phakisa a tla; a nkile mafura le letsoku
le sekama le sebilo. A fihla, a tlotsa pitsa, a fumana motho a
le teng ka pitseng, e le lekoloane. Joale a re : Ngoan'a ka,
mosali enoa oa hao u mo rate, hobane ke eena ea u entseng tjee.
Eaba o bitsa Senkepeng. Senkepeng a tla ; eaba o re ho
Senkepeng : Monna oa hao ke enoa. Senkepeng a thaba haho-
lo. Eaba ba ea ha habo.

Eitse ha ba fihla ha habo, Senkepeng a tsoala ngoana. Eaba
Monyohe o re : Ngoan'enoa oa ka a se ke a ba a khoisoa. Eaba
'Mamonyohe o re a khoisoe. Monyohe a ea meraka. Eaba
ba sala ba khoisa ngoan'enoa oa hae. Eitse mohla khomo li
koebang, Monyohe a tla, a fumana ba mo khoisitse. A re ho
Senkepeng : Antša ngoan'a ka. Senkepeng a re : Ha ke re
'm'ao o mo khoisitse na ? Eaba Monyohe o ea ho 'm'ae, a re :
Ngoan'eo oa ka, ke mang ea itseng a khoisoe ? 'Mamonyohe a
re : Ke 'na. Eaba Monyohe o otla mosali oa hae ; eaba mosali
oa hae oa ngala.

Eitse ha a fihla ha habo, Monyohe a ea. Eaba babo ba re :
Senkepeng, khutla u ee hae ha hao, ha monna oa hao. Eaba
ba re ho bahlankana ba motse 00 : Mo felehetseng. Eaba ba
ba felehetsa. Eare ha ba fihla naheng, eaba ba bolaea Monyo-
he. Monyohe a ba a shoa. 'M'ae a tla, a tla 'matla ; le eena
oba 'molaea.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

1 40 FOLK-TALES

XX

MALIANE l

They said there was a maiden called Maliane ; she was the
daughter of a chief ; she was much loved by him. She had her
own cows which were milked for her. They were cows which
had calved last year which gave her rich thick milk. They were
milked by two young men. She did not allow them to milk
them before having washed their whole body. The milk was
poured by her into a skin bottle. It happened one day that as she
was taking a handful of her rich thick milk, her mother passed
before her. She then took her thick milk, threw it away, saying
that her mother had caused dust to fall into it. Then she cried,
and threw her bread away. They tried to calm her.

She had a dog. She went away, went into the reed enclosure,
and found that in it they were churning milk. She passed on
she passed before the place where they were churning. Her
mother said : How impertinent you are to pass so before my
milk. I ask you, just now when I passed in front of your bread
outside there, did you not cry ? It was now she cried, that maid-
en. Her father came and asked : What ails that child of mine ?
They said : Nothing ails her. The father went back ; the mother
of the maiden went out, and stayed outside.

Then Maliane went out of the reed enclosure ; she arrived
down below. She arrived and said to her dog : What shall I
do ? The dog said : Go away with your belongings. She became
a whirlwind which said : Tsoko, tsoko, tsoko ; it arrived, went
into the reed enclosure, and entered into the hut. She took all
her things and went out, being still a whirlwind.

She came to her dog down below. They went away. They
arrived at a bed of reeds. The dog told her : When a rat speaks
to you, answer it properly ; you see it is a very thick bed of
reeds, there is no path through which we can pass. A rat called
Maliane, saying : Hulloa ! come here. She went. It said : You

I The Zulu tale of Umambakamaqula (Folk-Lore Journal, I, p. 103) and the
Kaffir stories of Long Snake and Five Heads (THEAL, op. cit. p. 50) are quite
similar to our story. In all three the story of Monyohe is interwoven with the
story of the two girls, one of whom refuses to be advised. But in Five Heads

Maliane 141

XX

MALIANE

Ba re e ne e re e le Maliane, e le ngoan'a morena, ea ratoang
haholo, a na le khomo tsa hae tseo a li hameloang, e le tsa
masole, tse bese le lekhunoana, li hangoa ke bahlankana ba le
babeli, a hana ha ba ea li hama ba sa ka ba hlapa 'mele kao-
fela, lebese le tšèloa ke eena hlofaneng. Eitse ka mohlomong
a ngoatha mafi a makhunoana, eaba 'm'ae o tla feta pel* a hae ;
eaba oa a nka, o a lahlela kantle ka mane, a re 'm'ae o lihetse
lithōle. Eaba oa 11a, eaba o tšollela bohobe kantle. Eaba ba
mo khutsisa.

O na a e-na le ntja. Eaba oa tloha, o kena ka lapeng, a
fumana ka lapeng ho ntso ho fehloa. Eaba oa feta, a feta pel'a
moo ho fehloang. Eaba 'm'ae o re : U ikhantša hakakang na,
ha u hlile u feta lebeseng la ka moo ! Ke re, etsoare ke feta
pel'a bohobe ba hao kantle ka moo, eaba ua 11a. Eaba e se e
le ha a 11a ngoan'a moroetsana. Eaba ntat'ae oa tla, a re :
Ngoana eo oa ka o jeoa ke'ng ? Eaba ba re : Ha a bile ha a
jeoe ke letho. Eaba ntat'ae o boel.a a khutla ; eaba oa tsoa
'm'a moroetsana, a lula kantle.

Eaba Maliane o tsoa ka lapeng, a fihla mane katlase. Eaba
o fihla a re ho ntja ea hae : Ke ea etsa joang ? Eaba ntja e re :
Tsamaea, u nke phahlo tsa hao. Eaba o fetoha setsokotsane,
sa re tsoko-tsoko, sa fihla, sa kena ka lapeng, sa ba sa kena ka
tlung. A fihla, a phahla thotoana tsa hae kaofela, a tsoa e ntse
e le setsokotsane.

A fihla ka ho ntja ea hae ka mane. Ba tsamaea, ba fihla
pel'a lehlaka. Eaba ntja e re : Etlere ha leboli le u buisa, u tlo
u bue hantle le lona ; ua bona hobane ke molilima feela oa
lehlaka, hobane ha ho moo re ka tsamaeang teng. Eaba leboli
le bitsa Maliane, la re : He ! tlo le mona. Eaba oa tla. Eaba

the order is reversed ; it is the elder sister Mpunzikazi who refuses to be advised
and so finds her death at the hands of Five Heads, whereas the younger one
Mpunzanyana follows the advice given her, is married and lives happily with
Five Heads.

142 FOLK-TALES

will meet with an old woman on the other side of the reeds. The
rat went on opening a path ; when it was about to go out of the
reeds it went back.1

Maliane met with an old woman full of the itch; she was
quite covered with it. Maliane came near to her. The old
woman told her : Lick me. Then Maliane licked her all over,
her whole body.2 The old woman became quite clean. She
gave some medicine to Maliane which caused her to vomit. Then
she gave her bread ; she ate. She scarified her in the region of
the heart, and rubbed a black powder on it. Then she said : As
you go to Monyohe, I am making your heart strong.

Maliane went on. She came in sight of Monyohe's village,
and met with Seroalakajana. She arrived near her at a foun-
tain. Seroalakajana came near and said: Help me to put my
pot on my head.3 She put the pot on her head; she did it
completely. Seroalakajana told her : When you arrive, stay
outside till I have taken my pot down; when I have done so,
break a reed of the enclosure ; and then when they give you the
first loaf of bread refuse it; when they tell you to eat from a
fine pot refuse to do it. Maliane then went on.

Seroalakajana arrived and went into the reed enclosure. She
came in and put her pot down. Then Maliane broke a reed of
the enclosure outside. Seroalakajana went out ; she said : There
is someone outside. They told her to come into the reed en-
closure. They gave her some kaffir corn, they gave her a new
mill stone ; she said that she was not used to grinding on a new
mill stone; she was accustomed to grind on an old one. They
gave her an old one; she ground on it. When she had finished
grinding, she went to the fountain, arrived and drew water; she
went back and put her meal in an old pot on the fire. She stirred
the meal and formed the loaves. She was told that she was given
the first loaf to eat. She said : At my home we do not usually
eat the first loaf.

She was taken into her hut ; she went in and saw that the hut
was full of food. She said : Who eats all that food ? Seroala-
kajana said: It is eaten by your husband when he comes. The
door was strongly closed, strongly closed. When she was
putting out the fire, she heard many, many whistlings in the hut.
He came down, Monyohe, from above. He arrived and put his

1 In the tale of Sekholomi and Takalasi (No. XXXII) Sekholomi is helped in
the same way by a rat he had befriended. Ubabuze in a Zulu story (CALLAWAY,
op. cit. p. 96) is helped by a mouse, but in a rather different way.

2 In a Be-Chwana tale (Folk-Lore Journal, I, p. Ill) a girl also licks the
sores of an old woman who has been half eaten by a cannibal.

Maliane 143

le re : U tla fumana leqhekoana ka 'ngane ho lehlaka. Eaba
leboli le ntse le phetla tsela ; eitse ha le se le tla tsoella, eaba
leakhutla.

Maliane a fumana leqhekoana le bolileng ke lekhoekhoe, le
re phuu ! Eaba Maliane o fihla ho lona. La re : 'Nyeke. Eaba
Maliane oa le nyeka, kaofela 'meleng. Qhekoana la sala le se
bile le re ru ! Eaba o mo fa sehlare ; eaba Maliane oa hlatsa.
Eaba o mo fa bohobe, eaba oa ja. Eaba o mo phatsa pelong,
eaba o mo sesetsa ka mohlabelo. Eaba o re : U ea ha Monyo-
he, ke u tiisa pelo.

Eaba oa tsamaea. A hlahela habo Monyohe, a khahlana le
Seroalakajana. Eaba o fihla ho sona selibeng. Sa fihla, sa
re : Nthoese. Eaba o se re hantle, o se re qete. Eaba o re :
Etlere ha u fihla, u lule kantle ke be ke role ; etlere hobane ke
role, ebe u roba seotloana ; etlere ha u neoa polokoe ea pele u
e hane ; ere ha ho thoe u jele lefisoaneng le letle u hane. Eaba
ba tsamaea.

A fihla, a kena ka lapeng Seroalakajana. Eaba o fihla, o
rola nkho ; eaba Maliane o roba seotloana kantle. Eaba Seroa-
lakajana oa tsoa ; a fihla, a re : Ke motho, ke enoa kantle.
Eaba ho thoe a kene ka lapeng. Eaba o fuoa mabele, a neoa
leloala le lecha ; a re ha a sile ka leloala le lecha, o sila ka la
khale. Eaba ba mo nea la khale, a sila ka lona. Eitse ha a
qeta ho sila, a ea selibeng, a fihla, a kha metsi ; a fihla, a tlha-
tleha ka pitsa ea khale. Eaba oa soka, eaba o bōpa lipolo-
koana. Eaba ho thoe a neoe polokoana ea pele, a e je. Eaba
o re : Ha eso ha re je polokoana tsa pele.

Eaba o isoa thing ; a fihla, a kena, a fumana ho ja4 ho tletse
ka tlung ka mona. A re : Ke lijo tse jeoang ke'ng tsee ? Eaba
Seroalakajana o re : Li ea tla jeoa ke monna oa hao ha a e-tla.
Eaba oa katisoa monyako, oa katisoa. Eitse ha a tinia mollo,
a utloa meloli tlung mona e le mengata. A theoha Monyohe
holimo mane; a fihla a kenya molomo nkhong ea leting. A ja

_ 3 The incident of a lame woman called Seroalakajana or Seroalankhoana
who asks help to put her pitcher on her head is also found in the story of Mothe-
melle (No. XXXIII). So also in the story of Five Heads and of Umambakama-
qula.
4 Ho ja, to eat, is taken here as a noun, food.

144 FOLK-TALES

mouth into a pot of light beer. He ate also a full load of meat
and milk porridge. He then went under her blankets, coiled
himself up, and put his head on the heart of Maliane. She
slept.

In the morning when Maliane woke up, she found he was no
longer there. She went out and entered the reed enclosure.
'Mamonyohe came ; she asked Maliane if she had slept well.
She said: Yes. At noon Maliane went; Monyohe came down.
As he was coming down there was a thick mist in the hut ; when
it cleared off, she found that a serpent was lying coiled up at
her feet near the door. She was very frightened. But Monyohe
said : Do not be frightened, it is I, your husband. He drew
aside, Maliane went out, arrived, took a pitcher, went to the
fountain. At evening she went to sleep. Monyohe came down,
drew near and coiled himself up as yesterday. Then she said :
To-morrow I go home. He said : It is well.

In the morning she rose and told Monyohe's mother. She
was given a new cloak and a new petticoat ; they also brought
bracelets for her. They escorted her ; she went on. They ar-
rived at her home.

When her younger sister saw her, she cried : I also will go.
She ran. Her sister tried to call her : Stop ! I will tell you ; the
younger girl refused to hear.1 She went, she arrived at the
reeds ; the rat called her. She said : What ? I have travelled
and arrived where the rats are speaking ! The rat said to her :
Go on ; you will have to come back, for "the pots are broken".*
She passed on. She met with the old woman, who said : Lick
me, child of my child. She answered : You speak for yourself;
when you see how rotten you are how can you expect me to
lick you ? She passed, she went on. She met with Seroalaka-
jana, who said : Come and help me to put my pot on my head.
She answered : Why do you not put it on yourself, as you are
a woman ? If you were a man I would help you.

She passed on. She arrived at the village. They gave her
some kaffir corn to grind. She said : If you give me such a big
quantity, who do you think will grind it ? They gave her a
smaller portion. She ground. She cooked the meal and formed
the loaves. They gave her bread, asking : Do you eat the first
loaf ? She said : At home we merely eat, we do not choose or
reject the first loaf. They gave it to her ; she ate. Then they
took her into the hut ; she went in, they shut her in. She cut
some meat and ate it. Monyohe was angry when he saw her

I The younger sister refuses in the same way the advice of her sister in the
stories of Long Snake and Umambakamaqula, in the Ronga story of The road to

Maliane 1 45

le mohlomelo oa nama le lehala. Eaba o kena ka likobong, oa
ithatela, o bea hloho pelong ea Maliane. Eaba oa robala.

Hosasane eitse Maliane ha a tsoha, a fumana a se a le sieo.
Eaba oa tsoa, a ea ka lapeng. A fihla 'Mamonyohe, a botsa
Maliane hore na o ile a robala hantle. A re : E. Eitse motšea-
re Maliane a ea, eaba Monyohe oa theoha. Eitse ha a theoha,
moholi oa e-ba mongata ka tlung ; eitse moo o fellang, a fuma-
na noha e ipokeletse ka monyako le pel'a maoto a hae. A tso-
ha haholo. Eaba Monyohe o re : U se ke ua tšoha, ke 'na
monna oa hao. Eaba oa iphutha. Maliane a tsoa, a fihla, a
nka nkho, a ea selibeng. Eitse mantsiboea a robala. Monyohe
a theoha, a fihla, a ithatela tjee ka maobane. Eaba o re : Ho-
sasane ke ea ha eso. Eaba o re : Ke hantle.

Eitse hosasane a tsoha, a s'a joetsa 'm'ae a Monyohe ; a fuoa
kobo e ncha le morepo o mocha, a rekeloa lithotho. Eaba oa
felehetsoa, oa tsamaea. Ba fihla ha habo.

Eitse ngoan'abo e monyenyane ha a 'mona, a re : Le 'na kea
ea. Eaba oa matha. Ngoan'abo o itse ka re : Ema, ke u joetse,
eaba oa hana. A tsamaea ; a fihla pel'a lehlaka, leboli la 'mo-
tsa. Eaba o re : En-en, ka tsamaea, ka ba ka fihla moo maboli
a buang. Eaba leboli le re : Feta, u ea khutla mephata e 11a
matlere. Eaba oa feta ; a fumana leqhekoana. La re : 'Nyeke,
ngoan'a ngoan'a ke. A re : Ua ipolela he ; ha u bona u bolile
hakalo, nka u nyeka ka u etsa'ng ? Eaba oa feta, a itsamaela.
A khahlana le Seroalakajana. Eaba o re: Tlo, u nthoese. A
re : Uena ha u ithoese, ha u le mosali tjee ? ke u roesa u bo u le
monna. Eaba oa iphetela.

A fihla hae. Ba mo qotsetsa mabele. A re : Ha le a nyethe-
letsa a le mangata, le re a ea siloa ke mang ? Eaba ba a fokotsa.
A sila. Eaba oa pheha, a bōpa lipolokoana. Eaba ba mo fa
bohobe, ba re : Na u ja polokoe ea pele ? Eaba o re : Ha eso ho
jeoa feela, ha ho khethoe polokoe ea pele. Eaba ba mo fa, oa
ja. Eaba ba mo isa tlung ; a b'a fihla, ba mo koalla. Eaba ba
mo isa tlung ; a b'a fihla, ba mo koalla. Eaba o seha nama, oa
e ja. Monyohe a fela pelo, ha a bona a e seha. Eaba oa theo-
ha Monyohe, o tima mollo ; a fihla, a ithatela ho eena ka mo-

heaven (JUNOD, op. cit. p. 238) and in the Ba-Suto tale of the Mothemelle.
2 A proverbial saying meaning that she will do some harm where she goes.

146 FOLK-TALES

cutting it. He came down, Monyohe, he put out the fire; he
came near and coiled himself up round her with his tail. He
took her and threw her down among the pots. He took her
again and shook her violently up and down. When the night
was clearing off, she saw the light where she could get out ;
she darted away.

When she was already some distance away, he appeared, he
picked her up roughly and threw her down. When the girl
wanted to rise, he took her again and shook her violently. She
arrived home, Monyohe continuing to strike her. He arrived
near the village and went into the fountain. When the girl
arrived at the door of the courtyard she fainted. Her people
said : The girl comes back, bringing us bad business.

When they went to the fountain, they found that the water
had dried up, there was no water at all. A doctor was procured.
They found the one who had put Monyohe into a serpent's
skin.1 He was called ; he came. He arrived and slaughtered
an ox before the fountain. He took its fat, he took a burning
coal, he came near and placed the burning coal before the mouth
of the fountain. He then put the fat on the coal. He made
Monyohe smell it inside.

Now a man came out; the skin remained in the fountain.
That girl was swollen all over her body ; the doctor spat on h%
and then removed her swollen skin. Then they went to the vil-
lage. The water flowed again. Then Monyohe took his two
wives ; they went with their husband to his village.2
It is now the end of the tale.

1 From this it would seem that Monyohe had been changed into a serpent
not out of malice but to protect him from his enemies.

2 Two Hausa tales (SCHOEN, op. cit. pp. 101 and 124) also tell the story of

Maliane 147

hatla. A mo nka, a mo lahlela mane lipitseng. Eare ha a mo

nka a mo sulu-sulubanya. Eitse ha siu bo se bo tla sa, a bona
leseli moo a ea tsoa teng, a betseha.

Eitse ha a se a le holenyana, a tloha Monyohe, e sa le a lopa-
11a holimo. Eitse ha a fihla a mo hlotha, a mo lahlela fatse.
Eare ha ngoanana a re oa tsoha, a mo nka hape, a mo tsulubu-
tlanya. A b'a fihla hae a nts'a mo otla. A fihla hae, a kena
ka selibeng. Ngoanana eitse ha a fihla monyako oa lelapa a
akheha. Bahabo ba re : Ngoanana a tla a re etsa.

Eitse ha ba re ba ea selibeng, ba fumana metsi a pshele, ho-
hle metsi a le sieo. Eaba ho batloa ngaka. Ha fumanoa ea
neng a kenye Monyohe letlalong. Eaba oa bitsoa, oa tla. A
fihla, a hlaba khomo pel'a seliba. Eaba o nka tšotso, a nka
leshala, a fihla, a le bea pel'a mohloli. Eaba o fihla a bea tšo-
tso holim'a leshala. Eaba o nkhisetsa Monyohe kahare.

Eaba ho tsoa motho, tlalo la sala ka selibeng. Ngoanana
eane a kokomohile mona 'meleng, eaba o mo tšoela ka mathe ;
eaba o ntša letlalo le kokomohileng. Eaba ba ea hae. Eaba
metsi a kolla. Eaba Monyohe o se a ba a nka basali ba hae ba
babeli, ba ea le monna ha habo.

Eaba ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

two woman, one of whom refused the advice of people or animals she met on
the way. She got her deserts for behaving so, whereas the other in being polite
and considerate gained riches and honour.

148 FOLK-TALES

XXI

MONYOHE

They say there was a chiefs son called Masilo ; there was a
dearth in his village. Masilo invited many men, saying that
they must come to a hunting expedition to kill game. They
went and hunted for game, but they did not get any rain.2 Many
months passed on without them getting rain. The people be-
gan to die of thirst. They had lots of dogs ; every day their
dogs were coming back after having dipped themselves in water.
The people sucked the skin of the dogs, but it did not help them
much, because they were so many.

Once they said : Let us go after them. They departed, and
went with them ; as they were going on, they found a big pool
of dark green water. They rejoiced greatly, saying : To-day
we have found water. They began to lift it with their hands,
but when they were bringing the water to their mouths, the
water dried up in their hands.3 They did so for a long time, but
the dogs were coming out of the water wet. Then the chief
began to speak, saying : Chief (he was speaking to the chief
who was in the water), what shall I give you ? I will give you a
hundred cattle. The chief of the water said : I do not want
them. — I will give you a hundred wives. He said : I do not
want them. Now the chief Masilo was silent, he wondered ; he
said again : I will give you my sister Senkepeng. The chief of
the water said : Yes, that is right.

Now they began to drink water, they all drank heartily. The
chief who was in the water said : When I shall come to fetch
my wife, you will know by a cloud of red dust. Now Masilo
said to the people of the hunting expedition : I beg you, do not
tell my father that we have bought water with my sister, because
he will kill me. They returned home.

A year passed; they forgot all that. The second year they
saw a cloud of red dust appearing. The men who knew about
it began to be frightened. All the people wondered what it
was. They saw an object like a serpent appear, but it was a

1 In this variant of Monyohe's tale we have many incidents belonging to the
story of Bulane and Senkepeng (No. XXII), especially in its first part.

2 There is a famine because there is a drought. The Ba-Suto organize hunt-

Monyohe 1 49

XXI
MONYOHE

Ba re e ne e re e le Masilo, e le ngoan'a morena, tlala ea oa
habo. Eaba Masilo o mema batho ba bangata, a re ba ee tšo-
long, ba e'o tsoma liphoofolo. Ba fihla, ba tsoma liphoofolo ;
empa ba hloka metsi. Ha ba ha feta likhoeli tse ngata ba sa
fumane metsi. Joale batho ba qala ho shoa ke lenyora. Ba ne
ba e-na le lintja tse ngata ; ka mehla lintja tsa bona li ne li
e-tla li ikinne metsing ; ba fible ba momone boea ba tsona,
empa ba se ke ba thusa letho, hobane ba le bangata haholo.

Ka mohlomong ba re : Ha re keng re li sale morao. Ba tloha,
ba ea le tsona ; ha ba ntse ba tsamaea, ba fihlela letša le leholo
le metsi a matalana. Ba thaba haholo, ba re : Kajeno re fuma-
ne metsi. Ba qala ho kha ka matsoho ; ere ha ba isa metsi
molomong, ebe metsi a oma matsohong. Ba 'na ba etsa joalo ;
empa lintja tsona li tie li le metsi. Ke ha morena a qala ho
bua, a re : Morena (o bitsa morena ea ka metsing), ke tla u
nea'ng ? Ke tla u nea likhomo tse makholo. A re : Ha ke li
hloke. — Ke tla u nea basali ba lekholo. A re : Ha ke ba
hloke. Joale morena Masilo a khutsa, a makala, a boela a re :
Ke tla u nea khaitseli ea ka, Senkepeng. Eaba o re : E, keteng.

Joale ba qala ho noa metsi, ba e-noa kaofela. Morena ea ka
metsing a re ho bona : Mohla ke tlang ho lata mosali oa ka, le
tla bona lerōle le lefubelu. Ebile Masilo o re ho letsolo : Oho,
le se ke la bolella ntate hore ke rekile metsi ka khaitseli ea ka,
hobane a ka mpolaea. Joale ba khutlela hae.

Ha feta selemo, ba ba ba li lebala. Eitse ka sa bobeli ba
bona ho hlaha lerōle le lefubelu. Joale banna ba qala ho tšo-
ha, ba tsebang. Batho kaofela ba ne ba maketse hore ke'ng.
Ba bona ho hlaha ntho e kang noha, empa e le telele haholo ;

ing expeditions in times of drought, hoping to get rain in that way.
3 The same feature is found in the tale of Bulane and Senkepeng.

150 FOLK-TALES

very long one.1 It arrived at the village ; it went to the chiefs
court, it entered it and found there men who were sitting down
dressing a skin. They jumped over the walls of the court, they
ran away, because they wondered what that thing could be.
But as for Masilo and those who had gone with him to the hunt-
ing expedition, they began to be frightened because they knew
what it was coming for. They brought strong beer for it in the
court ; it absorbed it all at once.

When the sun set the maidens went to their sleeping place,
because they slept by themselves in their own hut. The serpent
left the court ; it arrived and coiled itself up in the reed enclo-
sure of the hut where the maidens were sleeping. The maidens
began to be frightened; they tried to find how to get out. One
of them went first, she walked out very slowly ; the second one
came and did the same ; it was so till all of them had gone out.

There remained Senkepeng. She also started going out very
slowly. As she was just outside the door of the hut, she stumb-
led on the serpent. It rose, saying : Where are you going, my
wife ? She went out, she ran ; it went on, pursuing her, she weep-
ing loudly all the time, and the serpent striking her continually

with its tail. It was saying :2

Oo ! whose is the water ?

She was saying :

I am Senkepeng, Masilo's sister,
I have been married by a serpent,
I have been married by what is not to be seen.
She went on running through all the village, still weeping
loudly, till she arrived at her paternal uncle's. All the people had
come out of their huts wondering what it was. She entered the
hut. It entered the reed enclosure, it coiled itself up, it filled
the whole of the reed enclosure. She went out ; when she was
outside the door, she stumbled on it. It said : Where are you
going, my wife ? It turned round and went after her. She went
away from her paternal uncle's still weeping loudly.

On the way she broke her string of beads; it remained
picking them up. She went on a short distance. It came up to
her again ; it struck her with its tail, saying :
Oo ! whose is the water ?

She said :

I am Senkepeng, Masilo's sister,
I have been married by a serpent,
I have been married by what is not to be seen.
She arrived at her maternal uncle's. The people at her ma-

I In the ideas of the Ba-Suto, serpents are very closely connected with fount-
ains.

Monyohe 15 1

ea fihla hae, ea leba khotla, ea kena, ea fumana banna ba lutse
ba suha kobo. Ba tlōla lekhotla kaofela, ba baleha, hobane ba
maketse hore ke'ng ntho ena. Empa Masilo eena le bao a
neng a ile le bona tšolong, ba qala ho tšoha hobane ba ne ba
tseba seo e se tletseng. Ba e ntšetsa joala khotla ; ea bo monya
hang feela.

Ha tsatsi le likela baroetsana ba ea moo ho robaloang, hoba-
ne ba ne ba robala tlung ha bona ba 'notši. Ea tloha khotla,
ea fihla, ea ipokella lapeng la ntlo eo baroetsana ba robalang
ho eona. Joale baroetsana ba qala ho tšoha, ba batla moo ba
ka tsoang. Ha qala e mong, a nanya butle ; ha tla oa bobeli,
le eena a elsa joalo; ba ba ba fella kaofela.

Ha sala Senkepeng. A qala le eena ho nanya butle. Eitse
ha a le monyako oa ntloana, a e khopa ; ea tsoha, ea re : U ea
kae, mosali oa ka ? A tsoa, a matha, e ntse e e-tla ka mora' hae,
a nts'a bokolla, e nts'e mo otla ka mohatla, e nts'e re :

Oo ! metsi a mang ?
Joale eena o nts'a re :

Ke Senkepeng oabo Masilo,
Ke nyetsoe ke noha,
Ke nyetsoe ke ha-e-bonoe.
A 'na a titima ho qeta motse, a nts'a bokolla, a ba a fihla ha
rangoan'ae. Batho kaofela ba ne ba tsoile matlung, ba maketse
hore na ke'ng. A kena ka tlung. Ea kena lapeng, ea ipokella,
ea ba ea tlala lelapa. A tsoa ; eare ha a le monyako, a e khopa ;
•ea re : U ea kae, mosali oa ka ? Ea reteleha, ea mo sala morao.
A tloha ha rangoan'ae a ntse a bokolla.

Eitse ha a le tseleng a khaola sefaha ; ea sala e se thonaka.
A ba a tsamaea sebakanyana. Ea boela ea fihla ho eena, ea
mo otla ka mohatla, ea re :

Oo ! metsi a mang ?
Eena a re :

Ke Senkepeng oabo Masilo,
Ke nyetsoe ke noha,
Ke nyetsoe ke ha-e-bonoe.
A fihla ha malom'ae. Ba ha malom'ae le bona ba tsoa ma-

2 Monyohe's song means that as it was he who gave them water he had the
right to marry Senkepeng.

152 FOLK-TALES

ternal uncle's also came out of their huts, wondering what it
was that was coming. When she appeared, they saw it was
Senkepeng, pursued by a thing like a serpent, but such a one
as had no end. She entered the hut ; it entered the reed enclo-
sure, it coiled itself up. It was a heap which filled the reed
enclosure.

Her uncle then sent the people to the village to procure him
ten strong bulls. They arrived ; they were put into the kraal.
Then he said to the serpent : Chief, go into the kraal and
choose for yourself the one you like. It entered the kraal. The
bulls began to jump up and down, being afraid of it ; they
trampled upon it while it was biting them ; then it died.

Now Senkepeng began to be very ill from her fright ; she
nearly died. They had even to make her drink through a reed.
Her father asked the men where that serpent came from. The
men began to tell him that it was her brother Masilo who had
bought water with her when they had gone on the hunting-
expedition. The father ordered them to seize Masilo and to
kill him. Senkepeng recovered completely.
It is the end of the tale.

XXII

BULANE AND SENKEPENG

They say there was a chiefs daughter called Senkepeng; the
servant of her parents was called Maphapho. Now Bulane caused
a big drought ;2 there was no more rain, the sun was exceed-
ingly hot, the fountains dried up ; there was no more water.
The people tried to kill oxen, and to strain the chyle in their
stomachs in order to drink ; they did not find any help in it.

1 In another version of the same tale the maiden is called Motšeoa. In an-
other, a little different, there are two girls, one called Metsi (water), the other
Mctsana (little water). The first part of the story of Monyohe given in No. XXI
is again another version of the same tale.

2 Bulane is a chief who has power over the water. He causes a drought (in

Bulane and Senkepeng 153

tlung, ba ntse ba maketse hore na ke'ng e tlang. Ha a atamela
ba bona hobane ke Senkepeng, a setsoe morao ke ntho e kang
noha, empa e se na ho khaotsa bolelele. A kena ka tlung ; ea ke-
na lapeng, ea ipokella, qubu ea ba ea tlala lelapa.

Joale malom'ae a roma batho motseng hore ba 'matlele lipoho
tse bohale tse leshome. Tsa fihla. tsa hlahleloa sakeng. Eaba
o re ho eona : Morena, kena sakeng, u ikhethele eo ueratang.
Ea kena ka sakeng. Joale lipoho tsa qala ho tlōlaka li e tšaba ;
tsa 'na tsa e hata, e ntse e li loma, ea ba ea e-shoa.

Joale Senkepeng a qala ho kula haholo ke letsoalo, a ba a
batla a e-shoa/ a se a bile a nosoa ka lehlaka. Ntat'ae a 'na a
botsa banna hore na ntho ena e tsoa kae. Banna ba qala ho
bolella ntat'ae hore ke khaitseli ea hae, Masilo, ea neng a reke
metsi ka eena motho enoa, mohla ba ileng tšolong. Ntat'ae a
re ba nke Masilo, ba e'o 'molaea. Senkepeng a fola hantle.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXII
BULANE LE SENKEPENG

Ba re ene e le ngoana oa morena, Senkepeng, mohlanka oa-
bo e le Maphapho. Joale Bulane a bea letsatsi, pula e se ke ea
na. Letsatsi la ema haholo, liliba tsa e-psha, ha hlokoa metsi.
Ha re ka hlajoa likhomo, ho hlotloa mesoang ho nouoa, batho
ba se ke ba bona thuso.

Se-Suto, 0 bea letsatsi, he fixes the sun, he causes it to shine always so that there
shall be no clouds and no rain). In the story of Molisa-oa-lipoli (JACOTTET,
Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p. 152) her husband has the same power. The whole
story has, moreover, much likeness to this one.

154 FOLK-TALES

On a certain day Rasenkepeng went to Maphapho and said :
Go and find water where it may be found. A great hunting
expedition was prepared ; meal, food, drinking calabashes were
packed. They departed; they went far, they did not find any
water. Maphapho climbed on a high mountain, and saw water
yonder in a gorge, far, far away. He departed and went to
that water ; he walked, he walked, he arrived at that water.

He tried to stoop down, the lord of the water struck him on
the mouth, and did not allow him to drink it. He vainly tried
to take it in his hands, the lord of the water would not allow
him to drink it.1 Maphapho stood up ; he wondered, saying :
Chief, why do you refuse me your water ? The lord of the water
said : If you are to get this water, Maphapho, you must tell
Rasenkepeng to give me Senkepeng ; if he does not give me
Senkepeng, all his people shall die, they shall be wiped away
altogether with their cattle. Maphapho said : I shall tell him,
but allow me to draw some of this water. The lord of the wa-
ter allowed him. Maphapho drank the water, he drank, he
drank, his belly was filled with water. He drew it, his calaba-
shes were full of water ; then he took out the tobacco from his
snuff box, and poured water into the snuff box. He carried his
calabashes, went down and walked all the night through.

In the middle of the night he arrived home. He arrived and
came to Rasenkepeng's. He said : Here is water, chief. The
chief said : I thank you. Maphapho said : The lord of the water
says, chief, that I must tell you he wants Senkepeng ; if you
do not give him Senkepeng all the people and all the cattle
shall die, none of them shall remain. Then Senkepeng was
summoned, she was placed there. Her father said : As for this
water ..., the people are dying on your account. Maphapho
says it is you that the lord of this water wants If you are not
taken to him the people will die on account of you. Senkepeng
said : The people shall not die on account of me, you must take
me to the lord of the water.

Next day when the night was clearing off, her father sum-
moned all the people ; they gathered there. He then told them
what Maphapho had told him. The people said they consented.
The people contributed oxen ; the women ground, made meal ;
cattle were slaughtered ; the meat and the meal were put on
pack oxen. Young men and maidens were chosen to accompany
Senkepeng.

I The same incident of the water disappearing when people went to drink it
is also found in the Zulu tale of Usomamekntyo (Folk-Lore Journal, I, p. 133) ; cf.
also the notes to the preceding tale.

Bulane and Senkepeng < 155

Ka tsatsi le leng Rasenkepeng a re ho Maphapho, a re : Ea
batla metsi moo a leng teng. Eaba ho etsoa letšolo le leholo,
ha bofshoa liphofo, mefaho, liho tse ea kha metsi. Ba tsama-
ea', ba ea hole, ba se ke ba bona metsi. Maphapho a hloa
holim'a thaba e telele, a bona metsi a le mane khohlong, hole
hole mane. Eaba oa tloha, o ea metsing ao ; a tsamaea, a
tsamaea, a fihla metsing ana.

A leka ho inamela ; mong a metsi a mo otla molomo, a mo
hanela le 'ona. A re o kha ka matsoho, mong a metsi a mo
hanela le 'ona: Maphapho a ema, a makala, a re : Morena, u
nkhanela'ng le metsi ? Mong a metsi a re: Metsi ana ha u tla
a bona, Maphapho, u bolelle Rasenkepeng a 'neele Senkepeng ;
ha a sa 'neele Senkepeng, sechaba se ea shoa kaofela, se re
shoi le likhomo. Eaba Maphapho o re : Ke tla 'molella, u mpe
u ntumelle ke khe metsi ana. Eaba mong a metsi oa mo luine-
11a. Maphapho a noa metsi, a noa, a noa, mpa ea hae ea tlala
metsi. A khella, liho tsa tlala metsi, a ba a tšolla koae e
koomeng, a tsèla metsi koomeng. A jara liho, a theoha, a
tsamaea le bosiu bohle.

Eitse bosiu bo boholo a kena hae. A fihla, a kena ha Ra-
senkepeng. Eaba o re : Ke ana metsi, morena. Morena a re:
Kea leboha. Maphapho a re : Mong a metsi ana o itse, morena,
ke u bolelle o batla Senkepeng ; ha u sa mo neele Senkepeng,
sechaba se ea shoa kaofela le likhomo, ho ke ke ha tlōla letho.
Eaba ho bitsoa Senkepeng, a beoa mona. Ntat'ae a re : Metsi

ana sechaba se shoa ka baka la hao ; Maphapho o re, mong

a metsi ana o batla uena. Ha ho sa isoe uena ho eena, sechaba
se ea timela ka baka la hao. Senkepeng a re: Batho ba ke ke
ba e-shoa ka baka la ka ; e ka khona le nkise ho mong a
metsi ana.

Eitse hosasane, ha bosiu bo e-sa, ntat'ae a bitsa sechaba kao-
fela, sa bokana mona. Eaba o se phetela kamoo Maphapho a
'moleletseng kateng. Eaba sechaba se re sea lumela. Eaba
ho ntšuoa likhomo ke sechaba, hoa siloa, ho etsoa liphofo, hoa
hlajoa, ho binoa makaba ; ho bofshoa linama le liphofo, ho
nkuoa bahlankana le baroetsana ba felehetsang Senkepeng.

156 FOLK-TALES

They went on, they went on, they went on, they went on, they
went on ; Maphapho was with them, Maphapho was leading
them. They arrived at the spot, they off-loaded, they gathered
the meat and the meal there. There was no hut, there was no-
thing there, it was but the bare veldt ; it was but a gorge, no-
thing in it. They stayed with her there, they stayed together.
At evening they said : We are going, we return home. Senke-
peng said then : You may go.

They went away ; she remained alone. When it was dusk
she asked : Where shall I sleep ? An answer came : Just here.
She asked: Just here? Where? The answer was: Just here.
She was silent, she was silent, she was silent, she was silent.
She asked again : Where shall I sleep ? — Just here. — Just
here ? Where ? Just here ! At last Senkepeng was seized by
sleep and slept. She slept, she slept, she slept. She awoke and
saw that it was going to rain. She asked : It is raining, where
shall I sleep ? The answer was : Just here ! — Just here ? Where ?
— Just here ! At last she slept. She slept till the night cleared
off.

When she awoke, she found that she was in a hut, there were
skin rugs, plenty of food, nothing was wanting ; but she could
not see the master of the hut, Buiane-a-bula-ntlo-e-lithōle. She
did not see anything, she only saw the hut she was staying in
and the skin rugs in the hut. She went on living in that hut,
never seeing tne master of the hut ; she was there quite alone.
At last she became pregnant ; she was with child, though she
never saw her husband there in the hut.1

When her month was come, there appeared her mother-in-
law, 'Mabulane ; she had come to help her in her confinement.
She was delivered of a male child. When the child was grown,
and was now no more a small baby, and when 'Mabulane had
then gone away, she remained alone with her child. One day
Senkepeng said : May I not go home ? I am feeling home-sick.
A voice said : Go.

Next day she departed, she went home. When she arrived
home, the people said : Senkepeng has arrived, Senkepeng has
arrived, and she has even a little boy. She remained a little
while at home. After a few days when she was going away,
her sister Senkepenyane said : I am going with you. Senke-
peng said : All right, we can go together as I am living alone.

They arrived, they slept, they stayed. After a while she told
her sister to remain with the child. She remained with him,

I The very same situation is found in the tale of Molisa-oa-lipoli. There also
the husband is invisible, and only reveals himself later on. He lives under-

Bulane and Senkepeng 157

Ba tsamaea, ba tsamaea, ba tsamaea, ba tsamaea, ba tsamaea,
ba na le eena Maphapho, ba isoa ke Maphapho. Ba fihla, ba
bofolla, ba bokella linama le liphofo mona. Ha ho ntlo, ha ho
letho feela, ke naha feela ; ke khohlo feela, ha e na letho. Ba
hlola le eena mona, ba ntse ba lutse hammoho. Eaba mantsi-
boea ba re : Re ea tsamaea, re ea ha eso. Eaba Senkepeng o
re: Le ka 'na la itsamaela.

Eaba ba tsamaea; a sala a 'notši. Eitse ka phirima a botsa,
a re : Na ke ea robala kae ? Ha thoe : Hona moo. A botsa, a
re : Hona moo kae ? Ha thoe : Hona moo. A khutsa, a khutsa,
a khutsa, a khutsa. A eketsa ho botsa : Ke ea robala kae ? —
Hona moo. — Hona moo kae? — Hona moo,... ho fihlela
Senkepeng a ba a tšoaroa ke boroko, a robala. O robetse ; a
robala, a robala. Eitse ha a tsoha a fumana hoba pula ea tla.
A botsa, a re : Pula ea na, ke ea robala kae? Ha thoe: Hona

moo. — Hona moo kae ? — Hona moo, ho fihlela a robala.

A robala ho fihlela bosiu bo e-sa.

Eitse ha a tsoha a fumana a se a le ka tlung, ho se ho le
likobo, ho sa hlokoe lijo, ho se letho le hlokoang ; empa mong
a ntlo a sa 'mone, Bulane-a-bula-ntlo-e-lithōle. Ha a bone rao-
tho, o bona ntlo feela eo a lutseng ho eona le liphate tse ka
tlung. O' nts'a phela tlung ena, a sa bone motho feela, e ntse e
le'eena a 'notši ; ho fihlela a ba a emola, a ba a khora ngoana, a
sa bone monna mona tlung.

Nakong ea khoeli ea hae, ha hlaha matsal'ae, 'Mabulane, a
tlile ho 'melehisa. Eaba o beleha ngoana oa moshemane.
Ngoana enoa ha a se a holile, e se e le ngoana, 'Mabulane a
khutlile moo hape, a sala a 'notši le ngoan'a hae. Ka tsatsi le
leng, Senkepeng a re : Eka nka ka ka ea ha eso ; ke hlolohetsoe
ha eso. Ntsoe la re : Tsamaea.

Eitse hosasane a tsamaea, a ea habo. Ha a fihla habo :
Senkepeng a fihla, Senkepeng a fihla, o bile o na le ngoana oa
moshemane! Joale eaba o lula ho se hokae mona habo. Eitse
ka moso, ha a theoha, ngoan'abo, Senkepenyane, a re : Ke ea
le uena. Eaba o re : Che, re ka tsamaea, ke tsoe ke lula ke
'notši.

Ba fihla, ba robala, ba hlola. Eitse ka moso a re ho eo
ngoan'abo a sale le ngoana. Eaba o sala le eena, 'm'ae a ea ma-

ground with all his people and belongings (cf. the same idea of people and things
underground in the Zulu story of TJntombi-yapansi, CALLAWAY, op. cit, p. 307).

158 FOLK-TALES

the mother went to the gardens. The child cried ; she
struck him, saying : You child of a father who is never seen, of
whom nobody knows where he lives ! The child's father was
listening to what the girl said.

One day her elder sister said again : Stay with the child, I
am going to the fountain. The child cried. Senkepenyane struck
it, saying : You child of a father who is never seen, of whom
nobody knows where he lives ! She spoke so, she went on up-
braiding the child. When she opened the hut and entered it,
she saw the child's father sitting there at the end of the hut.
He said : Bring that child of mine here ; you are continually
swearing at my child, saying that its father is never seen ; it
is I, the father of that child. She wanted to go out, she knocked
against the hut. Presently she saw that Bulane was shining,
he was clothed in an iron garment ; she was dazzled by that
iron garment.1 Then she went out, she ran away.

The child's mother arrived, she put her pitcher down, she
put it outside in the courtyard, took a switch, and swept the
courtyard. Bulane called her, saying : Senkepeng ! She ans-
wered him. When Senkepeng made to enter, she was fright-
ened ; she said : Oh ! oh ! that shining man clothed in iron
garments, who has taken my child, where has that man come
from ? She sat down. He said : Senkepeng, who is your hus-
band ? She said : I do not know him, chief. He said again :
Senkepeng, who is your husband ? She said : 1 do not know
him, chief. He said : It is I who am your husband, it is I, Bu-
lane-oa-sehana-basali-a-bula-ntlo-e-lithōle,2 it is I, your hus-
band. Now when you brought your sister who was continually
swearing at my child, saying I was never to be seen, ... it is I
who am the father of this child.

It was on that day that Senkepeng began to know Bulane.
He took his iron garments and clothed the child with them.
Bulane had now come really, he did not go away any more.
At that time there also appeared a large village, and cattle, and
sheep, and grain, large grain baskets, everything came out of
the ground. Now Senkepeng lived with many people.
It is the end of the tale.

I Here Bulane is represented as having an iron cloak (a kind of coat of mail) ;
in the Ba-Suto story of Molisa-oa-lipoli the husband is represented as having half
of his body made of shining iron. The same is said of Ironside (THEAL, op. cii.
p. 122) in the Kaffir tale of that name. In another Kaffir tale (ibid. p. 141) a

Bulane and Senkepeng 1 59

simong. Ngoana a 11a ; a mo otla, a re : Ngoana eo ntat'ae a
sa bonoeng, a sa tsejoe moo a tsamaeang teng. Ntat'a ngoana
o nts'a utloa ha ngoanana eo a rialo.

Ka tsatsi le leng, ngoan'abo a boela a re: Sala le ngoana, ke
sa ea selibeng. Ngoana a 11a. A mo otla, a re : Ngoana eo
ntat'ae a sa bonoeng, a sa tsejoe moo a tsamaeang teng. Joale
a bua joalo, a ntse a omanya ngoana. Eitse ha a bula, a kena
ka tlung, a bona ntat'a ngoana a lutse motšeo ho ntlo mane ; a
re : Tlisa koano ngoana eno oa ka ; u s'u n'u nts'u rohaka ngoa-
n'a ka, u re ntat'ae ha a bonoe; ke 'na ntat'a ngoana enoa. O
itse ka re oa tsoa, a thuloa ke ntlo. Joale a bona ho benya ha
Bulane, Bulane a apere kobo ea tšepe, a fahloa ke eona kobo ea
tšepe. Eaba oa tsoa, oa baleha.

'M'a ngoana a fihla, a rola nkho, a e bea kantle ka lapeng ;
a nka lefielo, a fiela ka lapeng. Bulane a 'mitsa, a re : Senke-
peng! A mo arabela. Senkepeng ha a qala ho kena, a tsoha,
a re : Khele ! motho a benyang eo, ea apereng kobo ea tsepe, a
bileng a nkile ngoana, ke motho a tsoang kae ? A lula fatše.
A re : Senkepeng, monna oa hao ke mang ? A re : Ha ke mo
tsebe, morena. A pheta a re: Senkepeng, monn'a hao ke
mang ? A re : Ha ke mo tsebe, morena. A re : Ke 'na monn'a
hao, ke 'na Bulane-oa-sehana-basali-a-bula-ntlo-e-lithōle ; ke
'na monna oa hao. Joale ha u nka ngoan'eno a 'n'a tl'o rohaka
ngoan'a ka, a re ha ke bonoe, ke 'na enoa ntat'ae a ngoana
enoa.

Ke letsatsi leo Senkepeng a qalang ho tseba Bulane ka lona.
Ha nkuoa kobo ea tšepe, ea apesoa ngoana. Eaba ke ho tla
ha Bulane; ha a sa ea kae. Joale ke ha ho hlaha he motse o
mongata le likhomo, le manku, le mabele ; lisiu, lintho kaofela
li tsoela kantle. Joale Senkepeag a lula le batho ba bangata.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

man's chest is of a glittering metal that shines in the sun.

2 Lit. Bulane-who-refuses-to-be-married-who-opens-a-dusty-hut. It is the
name of Bulane followed by the first words of his lithoko or song of praise.

1 6o FOLK-TALES

XXIII
NTOTOATSANA

They say there was the child of a chief ; there were two of
them at home, one of them was a boy, the younger one was a
girl, Ntotoatsana ; it was she who was herding the cattle and
went with them to the summer pastures.2 On a certain day
when she was herding, a whirlwind came, snatched her away,
went with her ; it went very far.3 She arrived at a village of
Ma-Tebele4 who had but one leg, one arm, one ear, and one
eye. When she arrived there, she was married to the chiefs
son.

Then they took horns and buried them in her hut. One clay
as she was trying to escape the horns cried :5

U-u-u-e ! it is Ntotoatsana, who was carried away by a whirlwind in the pastures,
When she was herding the cattle of her father, of Sekoae.

The Ma-Tebele came running and held her fast.6

She came back ; she stayed there long and got two children,
twins, two girls who were like their mother. They grew up,
they became biggish girls. One day as they went to the fount-
ain, near to which were some reeds, they found there their ma-
ternal uncle with his men. They called them, they asked : Whose
children are you ? — Selo-se-maqoma's.7 — Who is your mo-
ther ? — She is Ntotoatsana. — Whose child is she ? — She usually
says that she was carried away b> a whirlwind in the pastures.
They said : Alas ! they are the daughters of my younger sister.

1 The tales of Usitungusobenhle and the Amajubatente (CALLAWAY, op, cit. p.
78) and of Ironside and his sister (THEAL, op. cit. p. 120) are, in their first part at
least, very similar to this. They both give the story of a girl who was carried
away by pigeons and married in a strange nation. A portion of the Ronga tale
of Mubukwana (JUNOD, Les Ba-Ronga, p. 321) tells the same thing. Mubuktvana
is carried away in the air by the Mangabangabana.

2 It is quite unusual for Ba-Suto girls to herd the cattle; the cattle are under
the sole direction of the men or young men of the tribe.

3 In the two parallel stories indicated above the girl is carried away by
pigeons (or men-pigeons), not by a whirlwind as in our tale.

4 The Ba-Suto call by the name of Ma-Tebele all the Kal or Red Kaffirs of
the coast (Xosas, Zulus, etc.) and not only the Ma-Tebele of Matebeleland
These men are Half men, i. e. like men divided longitudinally. The same Half-
men appear in a Zulu story under the name of Amadhlungundhlebe, who are can-
nibals (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 199). The Mangabangabana who carry away Mu-

Ntotoatsana l6l

XXIII

NTOTOATSANA

Ba re e ne e le ngoan'a morena, ba le babeli hae, empa e
mong e le moshanyana, e monyenyane Ntotoatsana e le moroe-
tsana, a alosa likhomo, a ea le tsona meraka. Eitse ka mohlo-
mong, ha a ntse a alositse, ha fihla setsokotsane, sa mo re hloi,
sa ea ka eena, sa ea hole. A fihla Matebeleng a oto le leng,
a tsoho le leng, a tsebe e 'ngoe, a ihlo le leng. A fihla, a
nyaloa ke ngoan'a morena.

Eaba ho nkuoa manaka, a epeloa ka tlung ha hae. Eitse ka
mohlomong a re oa thoba, manaka a re :

U-u-u-e, ke Ntotoatsana, ngoan'a mankuoa ke leholi malisong,
A alositse khomo tsa ntat'ae, tsa Sekoae.

Eaba Matebele a matha, a ea mo tšoara.

Eaba oa khutla ; a lula teng halelele, a ba a ba le bana ba
babeli, mafahla, e le banana ba babeli ba tšoanang le 'm'a
bona. Ba 'na ba hola, ea e-ba banana ba baholoanyane. Eitse
ka mohlomong, ha ba ea selibeng, hlaka le le pel'a seliba, ba
fumana bo-malom'a bona teng. Eaba ba ba bitsa, ba re : Le
bana ba mang ? — Ba Selo-se-maqoma. — 'M'a lōna ke mang ?
— Ke Ntotoatsana. — Ke ngoan'a mang ? — O'a re o na a
nkuoe ke leholi malisong. Eaba ba re : Jo 'na, ke bana ba
'nake. Eaba ba ba khella mahlaka, ba a lokisa hantle ka

bukwana in the Ronga tale are also one-legged men. In the Kaffir story of
Ironside they are only spoken of as having one leg much longer than the other ;
they are also cannibals. In the'Zulu tale the Amajubatente, into whom Usitungu-
sobenhle is married are spoken of either as pigeons or men, but not as Half-men,
as here.

5 In the Zulu tale of Usitungusobenhle it is an old woman who gives the
alarm when the maiden tries to escape.

6 In the Kaffir story of Ironside the cannibals want to eat her and her child
because they have two legs, not one only like themselves ; that is why she tries
to escape. The same feature is found in the Zulu tale of Umkxakaza-Wakogi-
ngqwayo, whom the Amadhlungundhlebe try to melt down in order that they may
eat her fat.

7 Selo-se-maqoma means lit. the rough thing, the thing rough like the skin of
a crocodile.

162 FOLK-TALES

Then they cut some reeds for them, and dressed them well with
their knives. They drew water for them ; the girls went away.
They said : When you arrive, put the reeds under the skins on
which your mother sits ; then cry and tell her to go and fetch
some bread for you from the hut.

They went away, they arrived, took their pitchers down, and
put them aside. Then they cried ; they called to their mother
to give them bread. When she had gone into the hut, they
slipped the reeds under the skins. The mother arrived, sat down
upon the reeds ; they got crushed ; the girls cried. The mother
said that a young man would go and get them other reeds. They
refused, saying that they did not want reeds taken by that
young man, they wanted reeds plucked by their mother. Then
their mother went to pluck reeds for them.1

When she arrived at the fountain, she recognised her brother.
She wept when she saw her brother. They said : When will
you come home, as you are staying at a village of Ma-Tebele,
at Lilo-li-Maqoma's ? She said : I am unable to come ; always
when I try to escape, the horns raise a hue and cry. They said :
What kind of horns are they that speak ? She said : Those
horns are buried in my hut. They said : If you are wise, warm
some water, and when it is boiling pour it into the horns ; then
fill them up with dregs of beer, take some stones and put them
over, and when it is midnight take your two children and come
here.

She went, she arrived, she sat down. Then she told the
girls to warm water. At dusk it was boiling. She took it and
poured it into the horns. She took dregs of beer and filled
them with it ; she took stones and put them above. At midnight
she roused her daughters and went down the stony ridges ;
they arrived at the reeds and went away with her brother. The
horns cried : U-u-u ! The people thought that is was only the
dogs.

They went on. The night cleared off, they still going on.
When they were already far, the horns again raised a hue and
cry. They cried :

U-u-u-e ! it is Ntotoatsana, who was carried away by a whirlwind in the pastures,
When herding the cattle of her father, of Sekoae.

Now the Ma-Tebele went in pursuit ; they went on, hopping.

When the Ma-Tebele were drawing near to them — the
travellers were leading a black sheep 2 — the sheep sang :

I The incident of the reeds broken in order to call Ntotoatsana to the fount-
ain is also found in the Ronga tale of Mubukwana, but explained a little differ-
ently ; this shows how the two tales are closely related to one another. In the
Ronga story, as well as in the Kaffir tale of Ironside, the brother of the maiden

Ntotoatsana 1 63

lithipa. Eaba ba khella, eaba ba tsamaea. Ba re: Le tie le
fihle, le kenye lehlaka phateng eo 'm'a lōna a lulang holim'a
eona, le lie, le re a e'o le ngoathela bohobe ka tlung.

Eaba ba itsamaela; ba fihla, ba rola, ba bea mane. Eaba ba
11a, ba re 'm'a bona a ba ngoathele bohobe. Eitse ha a ile ka
tlung, ba sunya mahlaka ka tlas'a phate. 'M'a bona a fihla, a
lula holimo, a re bjare-bjare ; eaba ba 11a. Eaba 'm'a bona o
re a e'o khuoa ke mohlankana e mong. Eaba ba hana, ba re
ha ba rate a tšoeroeng ke mohlankana eno, ba rata ha a ka
khuoa ke 'm'a bona, Eaba 'm'a bona o ea a kha.

Eitse ha a fihla selibeng, a tseba ngoan'abo. Eaba ba re :
Ha eso ua ea neneng, ha u lutse Matebeleng, habo Lilo-li-
maqoma. Eaba o re : Ke sitoa ho ea, ere leha ke re kea thoba,
naka li hlabe mokhosi. Ba re : Ke naka tse joang tse buang ?
Eaba o re : Li epetsoe tlung ea ka linaka tseno. Eaba ba re :
Ha u le bohlale, u hakonose metsi, a bele, ebe u tšèla ka lina-
keng, u sutele moroko, u nke majoe, u hatise holimo ; ere ha e
sa le ka seroko, u nke bana ba hao ba babeli, u tie koano.

Eaba oa tsamaea ; a fihla, a lula. Eaba o re ho banana ba
hakonose metsi. Eitse ka phirimana a bela ; eaba oa a kuka,
o fihla a tšèla ka linakeng. A nka moroko, a o sutela ; eaba o
nka majoe, a hatisa holimo. Eitse ka seroko a tsosa banana
ba hae, ba theohela ka marallaneng, ba fihla lehlakeng, ba
tsamaea ka bo-ngoan'abo. Linaka tsa re : U-u-u ! eaba ba-
tho ba re ke lintja.

Eaba ba tsamaea ; siu ba ba ba e-sa, ba ntse ba tsamaea.
Eitse ha ba se ba le hole, tsa boela tsa hlaba hape mokhosi
linaka, tsa re :

U-u-u-e ! ke Ntotoatsana, ngoan'a mankuoa ke leholi malisong,
A alositse likhomo tsa ntat'ae, tsa Sekoae.
Eaba Matebele a phalla, ea sala e le qhile-qhile.
Eitse ha Matebele a se a atametse ho bona, ba khokile nku
e le ntšo, nku ea re : Hase fuhlaele fu, ha u na tema fu. Ma-

also comes to her rescue.

2 The end of the story is quite different in the Kaffir, Zulu, and Ronga tales.
The episode of the singing goat does not, to my knowledge, occur in any other tale.

1 64 FOLK-TALES

Hase fuhlaele fu, ha u na tema fu.i

The Ma-Tebele stood watching her. The travellers went on.
The sheep raised up its tail, it dug the ground with its claws.
The Ma-Tebele stood still. When the travellers were already
far, the sheep disappeared ; it arrived at Ntotoatsana.

The Ma-Tebele departed, running as in a race; they ran
wildly through the open country, one before the other. They
arrived near Ntotoatsana. The sheep sang and danced again ;
then the sheep disappeared. When the Matebele departed
they said : By Maqoma,2 we will go even were we to arrive at
Ntotoatsana's village ; that little sheep, we must simply pass it
even if it dances and sings so nicely. They went on.

When they arrived, the sheep sang again ; it danced, it
danced. They watched it again. It departed again ; it disap-
peared suddenl)'. They said : They have gone with our
child. Selo-se-Maqoma went back sad.

Ntotoatsana and her companions went on till they arrived at
their village. They found that her mother had still her mourn-
ing tuft of hair which was as long as a bird's tail. Her mo-
ther cried. All her people were told that Ntotoatsana had
arrived. Her people came ; they greeted her. Then her people
returned to their homes. She remained there.
It is the end of the tale.

I The song of the goat is quite unintelligible ; the only words which I can
understand are ha u na tenia, which mean: you have no portion. No native has
been able to give me any idea of the true meaning of that song. The words are

Ntotoatsana 165

tebele a ema, a e lebella. Eaba ba ntse ba tsamaea. Nku ea
phetla mohatla, ea fataka makoatsi. Matebele a ba a ema.
Eitse ha ba se ba le hole, nku ea re nya ; eaba e fihla ho
Ntotoatsana.

Matebele ha a re a tloha, ea e-ba mosiea-sieane mohloka
lebelo, ha re naka har'a thota, ha qhalana batho. Ba fihla ho
bo-Ntotoatsana. Ea boela ea bina nku ; Matebele a boela a
e lebella. Ba tsamaea bo-Ntotoatsana, ba ba ba ea hole ; nku
ea re nya. Matebele a re a tloha, a re : Ka Maqoma, re be re
e'o fihla habo Ntotoatsana, nkunyana eno re e fete feela, leha
e ka re e etsa moqhakhotso o motle. Eaba ba tsamaea.

Eitse ha ba se ba fihla, nku ea boela ea bina, ea tlōlaka.
Eaba ba boela ba a e lebella. Eitse ha e tloha mona, eabe e se e
nyamela. Eaba ba re : Ba ile le mothoana koano.3 Selo-se-maqo-
ma sa khutla se soabile.

Eaba bo-Ntotoatsana ba tsamaea, ba ba ba fihla ha habo.
Ba fihlela 'm'a bona a le sehlotho e se e ka tsiroane. Eaba
'm'ae oa 11a. Ha joetsoa bahabo kaofela hobane o fihlile
Ntotoatsana. Ba tla bahabo, ba mo lumelisa. Eaba bahabo
ba khutlela ha habo bona. Eaba oa lula.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

probably meant to be Zulu (?).

2 They swear by Maqoma, their chief. Swearing by one's own chief is
very common among the natives.

3 These words are meant to be Zulu, but pronounced in the Ba-Suto fashion.

166 FOLK-TALES

XXIV
MOSIMOLI LE MOSIMOTSANE

Thulare2 is the name of a large pot ; thuldtšane is the name of
a small one. The children of the owner of the pots were Mo-
simoli and Mosimotsane. They say that Mosimoli left home
and went to visit her parents ; she found that her father and
mother were away, she found only Mosimotsane. She asked
her : Mosimotsane, where has mother gone ? She answered : They
have gone to a singing party at Moholokoane-oa-se-omile-lele-
me's.3 Then Mosimoli asked : Is there no food to eat ? Mosimotsa-
ne answered : There is no food to eat. She asked : Did not mo-
ther churn thulare f She answered : No, mother did not churn it.
She asked : Has thulatšane not been churned ? She answered :
No, it has not been churned.4

Mosimoli took water, washed her hands, washed them ; she
rolled thulare, put it before the hut. She churned, she churned,
she churned, she churned, she churned it. She took the butter
and put it aside ; she took dry dung and kindled a fire. She took
the butter and cooked it at the fire ; she took the leavings of the
butter and poured them on the porridge. She said : Come Mosi-
motsane, let us eat. They ate, they ate, they finished. She
covered the butter of her mother, she covered it well. She took
water, she washed thulare, she put it in its place. She said :
Now I am going, Mosimotsane, I am going home. She left, she
went home.

Her mother and her people arrived. The mother asked : Mo-
simotsane, who has churned thulare ? She said : It is Mosimoli.
The mother kept scolding all the night through. In the mor-
ning she arose, that woman. She took a pot of kaffir corn which
had been soaked in water to germinate, and put it outside ; she
came into the hut, put some more in a pot, still scolding, and

1 A version of the same story is given in A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 205. Casalis
{Les Bassoutos, p. 360) also gives a part of this story ; in his version the name of
the girl is Mosibotsane. The first part of the Ronga tale The girl and the whale
(JUNOD, Contes des Ba-Ronga, p. 230) is also a rather close parallel. Cf. also a
similar Hausa tale (Schoen, op, cit. p. 76).

2 Thulare is an obsolete Se-Suto word (still existing, if I am not wrong, in
the Se-Pedi dialect) meaning pot, thulatšane is its diminutive. The fact that it needs
to be explained, but has nevertheless been kept in this story, is a proof, among

Mosimoli and Mosi mot sane l6y

XXIV

MOSIMOLI LE MOSIMOTSANE

Thulare ke pitsa e kholo, thulatšane ke e nyenyane. Bana
ba mong a lipitsa ke Mosimoli le Mosimotsane. Ba re Mosimoli
a tloha hae, a etela habo, a fumana 'm'ae a le sieo le ntat'ae, a
fumana Mosimotsane, a re : Mosimotsane, 'mè o ile kae ? A re :
Ba ile pineng ea Moholokoane-oa-se-omile-leleme. Eaba Mo-
simoli o re : Ha ho lijo tse jeoang, Mosimotsane ? Mosimotsane
a re : Ha ho lijo tse jeoang. A re : 'Mè ha a ka a fehla thulare
e kholo ? A re : En-en, ha a ka a e fehla. A re : Thulatsane
ha ea fehloa ? A re : En-en, ha ea fehloa.

Eaba o kha metsi, a hlapa, a hlapa ; a theta thulare, a e bea
har'a ntlo, a e fehla, a e fehla, a e fehla, a e fehla, a e fehla. A
ntša mafura, a a bea mane ; a nka lisu, a besa mollo. A nka
mafura, a apeha ifo ; a kha mofehlo, a apeha motoho. A tšola
mafura, a a tšèla mafisong, a tlala; a nka bohoko, a bo tšèla
motohong. A re : Mosimotsane, tlo re tl'o ja. Ba e-ja, ba e-ja,
ba qeta. A koahela mafura ane a 'm'ae, a a koahela kantle. A
nka metsi, a hlatsoa thulare, a e bea mane ; a re : Joale kea
tsamaea, Mosimotsane, ke ea ha eso. Eaba oa tsamaea, o ea ha
hae.

Bo-'m'ae ba fihla. 'M'ae a re : Mosimotsane, thulare e fehli-
loe ke mang ? A re : Ke Mosimoli. A omana le bosiu bohle.
Hosasane a tsoha mosali enoa, a nka mabele ka nkho a ine-
tsoeng, a a bea kantle; a kena, a nka a mang ka nkho, a nts'a
omana, a a bea kantle. A nka mohoma, a theba sekoti se
setelele, a ntse a omana. A re : Mosimotsana, tsamaea, u e'o

others, of the antiquity of these tales and the wonderful way they have, on the
whole, been preserved.

3 Moholokoane-oa-se-omisa-leleme, lit. Moholokoane who causes the tongue to
be dry ; it is the name of a man, followed by the first line of his lithoko, or song
of praise.

4 The pot which gives butter when churned is to be compared to the tree
which gives milk, in Kwnonngoe (No. XVII), and to the pot which multiplies the
corn, in Mothemelle (No. XXXIII).

168 FOLK-TALES

put it outside. She took a pick and dug a deep hole, still scold-
ing. She said : Mosimotsane, go and cal 1 Mosimoli, tell her I
am calling her. Mosimotsane went, arrived, and said : Mosi-
moli, mother calls you.

Mosimoli asked her : Mosimotsane, did not mother scold ? She
said: No, she did not scold. She asked again: Tell me, my
dear, I pra}^ you, did not mother scold ? She denied, saying :
No, mother did not scold. She said : Let us go. They went.
She asked her again on the way; she said: Did not mother
scold ? She denied.

They arrived. The mother said : Mosimoli, take this kaffir
corn out of the water ; take seme straw and spread it out in
the hole. She took it and spread it out in the hole. The mo-
ther took the pot which contained the kaffir corn, and gave it
to her daughter in the hole. The daughter put it down in the
hole. As she was putting it down, her mother covered her with
earth ; she was holding a hard grinding stone,1 she crushed
her, she crushed her with the grinding stone. She crushed her,
she crushed her, she reduced her to dust, she mixed it with the
kaffir corn.

She took a basket and gathered all that dust. She carried it
on her head, and threw it into the pool near the fountain. The
crocodile moulded her (Mosimoli) in the water, it moulded her,
it moulded her, it moulded her, it moulded her ; she became
again Mosimoli.2

One day some girls said : Mosimotsane, let us go to the fount-
ain. She also took a pitcher and went to the fountain with the
other girls. They arrived, they drew, they drew, they drew
water, the pitchers were filled. They sat clown and played,
they played, they played, they played. They said : Let us go
home, Mosimotsane, the sun has set. They took their pitchers
and put them on their heads. When Mosimotsane tried to take
her pitcher, the pitcher stuck fast to the ground.3 The other
girls put their pitchers down, they gathered round Mosimotsane ;
they took hold of the pitcher to put it on her head, it stuck fast
to the ground. They said : Her mother's ghosts hold it fast.4
They went up, they went home ; she stayed there.

1 I render the words lejoe la 'molo as a hard grinding stone; it is more of a
guess than a true translation. Lejoe means indeed stone, but 'molo is again one of
those obsolete words whose real meaning is difficult to get at. In the Ronga
tale the sister of the maiden buries her in the ground ; she is rescued by her dog,
and then throws herself into the sea. A big fish (a whale?) swallows her and
saves her life. — In a Kaffir story the boy, Ulusana ( Folk-Lore Journal, I, p. 20) is
also pounded with a round stone by his sisters, and comes to life again.

2 There are many stories in which a child or a girl is saved by a crocodile or

Mosimoli and Mosimotsane 169

bitsa Mosimoli, u re kea 'mitsa. Mosimotsane a ea, a fihla, a re :
Mosimoli, 'mè oa u bitsa.

Mosimoli a 'motsa, a re : Mosimotsane, 'me ha a ka a omana ? A
re : En-en, 'mè ha a ka a omana. O itse ka pheta, a re : Mpole-
lle hie, 'nake, kea urapela, 'mè ha a ka a omana ? A latola, a re:
En-en, 'mè ha a ka a omana. A re : Ha re tsamaee. Ba tsamaea.
A 'motsa hape tseleng, a re : 'Mè ha a ka a omana ? A latola.

Ba fihla. 'M'ae a re : Mosimoli, nka mabele ao a ka, u a
inole; u nke tšese, n e ale ka sekoting. A e kuka, a e ala ka
sekoting. A nka nkho e nang le mabele, a e nea ngoana ea ka
sekoting. Ngoana a e bea fatše ka sekoting. Eitse ha a e bea
fatse, 'm'ae a mo koahela ka mobu, a nkile lejoe la 'molo ; a mo
khoba, a mo khoba ka lejoe la 'molo ; a mo khoba, a mo khoba,
a mo etsa lerōle, a mo kopanya le mabele.

A nka seroto a ola mobu ona, a o roala, a ea o lahlela letšeng
le pel'a seliba. Koena ea mo bōpa ka metsing, ea 'mōpa, ea
'mōpa, ea 'mōpa, ea 'mōpa, ea boela ea e-ba Mosimoli.

Banana ba bang mohlomong ba re : Mosimotsane, a re eeng
selibeng. A nka nkho le eena, a ea le banana ba bang selibeng.
Ba fihle, ba khelle, ba khelle, linkho li tlale ; ba lule, ba 'ne ba
bapale, ba bapale, ba bapale, ba bapale. Ba re : Ha re eeng
hae, Mosimotsane, tsatsi le liketse. Ba nke linkho tsa bona ; ba
li roale. Mosimotsane ha a nka nkho ea hae, nkho e hanele
fatše. Banana ba bang ba rola tsa bona, ba re ka e bokanela
ea Mosimotsane, ba e kakase, ba re ba 'mea eona hlohong ; e
hanele fatše. Bare: A thotsela tsa 'm'ae li e tšoere. Ba nyo-
loha, ba ea hae ; a sala mona.

an old woman, and brought up in the water. The particulars have been given
in the notes to the tale of Kumonngoe (No. XVII). This is, however, the only in-
stance of the crocodile moulding a girl to life.

3 The incident of the pot sticking fast to the ground is found also in the
Ronga tale.

4 They mean thereby that her mother is a witch who keeps ghosts (lithotsela)
to help her in practising witchcraft.

170 FOLK-TALES

Her sister appeared, coming out of the water, leaning on her
jron staff. As she came, she sang :

It is the large thulare, Mosimotsane,9

When I had gone to my husband's, Mosimotsane,

You told me a lie, Mosimotsane,

That mother of yours, Mosimotsane,

She crushed me, she crushed me, Mosimotsane,

With a hard grinding stone, Mosimotsane ;

The crocodile moulded me, moulded me, Mosimotsane.
Then she troubled the water, she troubled it, she troubled it,
she troubled it, she troubled it, she troubled it, she troubled it ;
she drew water and said : Take it and cook the food of your
father and mother with it, that they may eat it. She went back
into the water, still leaning on her iron staff.

She arrived home, Mosimotsane, and put the water down. Her
mother asked her : Mosimotsane, what were you crying for ?
She said : Mother, I was not crying. — Well, you came back
bringing bad water filled with mud. — It has been troubled by
the calves. The mother was silent. They cooked, they ate, they
slept.

In the morning the people went to the gardens. The girls
called her, saying : Mosimotsane, let us go to the fountain. She
also took a pitcher and went with them. They arrived, they
drew, they drew, they drew, they drew, they drew, they drew,
they drew the water ; they put their pitchers down, they played.
They said : Mosimotsane, let us go home, the sun has set. They
came, they took their pitchers, all of them put them on their
heads. When Mosimotsane tried to take hers, it stuck fast, she
could not put it on her head. The other girls put theirs down,

I The song of Mosimotsane is given a little differently by both Casalis and A.
Sekese. In Casalis' version it reads thus :
Your mother, your mother yonder, 'M'ao, 'm'ao eo, Mosibotsane !

[Mosibotsane !
Has ground, ground me, Mosibotsane. A iitšila-tšila, Mostbotsane !
The dust storm took me, Mosibotsane. Rōle la nkuka, Mosibotsane!
Took me to the crocodile, Mosibotsane! La nkuka ho koena, Mosibotsane !
The crocodile received me, Mosibo- Koena ea nkhakaletsa, Mosibotsane,

[tsane !
The crocodile moulded me, Mosibo- Koena ea mpōpa, Mosibotsane!

[tsane !
He moulded me into a human form, Ea mpōpa sa motho, Mosibotsane!
[Mosibotsane !
In A. Sekese's version the song reads thus :
Mosimoli, Mosimotsane, Mosimoli, Mosimotsane,

Put the pitcher on your head, let me Roala-roala, ke u roese,
[help you;

Mosimoli and Mosi mot sane 17 1

Ngoan'abo a hlaha, a itsoela metsing, a ikokotlela ka lere la
hae la tsepe. Etlare ha a e-tla, a re :

Ke thulare e kholo, Mosimotsane,

Ke itse ke ile bohali, Mosimotsane,

Ua nkakela leshano, Mosimotsane,

Eena 'm'ao eo, Mosimotsane,

A nkhoba, a nkhoba, Mosimotsane,

Ka lejoe la 'molo, Mosimotsane ;

Koena ea mpōpa, ea mpōpa, Mosimotsane.
Ebe o luba metsi ao, a luba, a luba, a luba, a luba, a luba, a
luba ; a khella, a re : Nka u e'o apehela ntat'ao le 'm'ao, ba je.
A khutlela metsing, a ntse a ikokotlela ka lere la hae la tšepe.

A fihle hae Mosimotsane, a role metsi. 'M'ae a 'motse, a re :
Mosimotsane, u no u ntso u llela'ng ? A re : 'Mè, ke ne ke sa lie.
— Uena u 'no u tie u khile metsi a mabe a seretse. — A lubiloe
ke manamane. 'M'ae a khutse. Ba apehe, ba je, ba robale.

Ere hosasane ba ee masimong. Banana ba 'mitsa, ba re :
Mosimotsane, ha re eeng selibeng. A nka nkho le eena, a ea le
bona. Ba fihle, ba khelle, ba khelle, ba khelle, ba khelle, ba
khelle, ba khelle, ba khelle ; ba bee linkho, ba bapale: Ba re :
Mosimotsane, a re eeng hae, letsatsi le liketse. Ba fihle, ba nke
linkho mona, ba roale kaofela, a sale. A re ka re oa e kuka, e
hane ho ea hlohong. Ba role banana ba bang, ba tie ho eena.
Ba fihle, ba e bokanele, ba re ba e kuka, e hane. Ba re : Thotsela
tsa 'm'ae li e tšoere ; ha re tsamaeeng.

But you have betrayed me, Empa ua n 'a nkeka,

Mosimoli, Mosimotsane, Mosimoli, Mosimotsane,

Your father and your mother Ntat 'ao le 'm 'ao

Have ground, ground me with a grind- Ba nkhoba-khoba ka joana la 'mopo.

[ing stone.

The little hippopotamus and the croco- Kubunyane le koena

[dile

Wanted to mould me into an animal, Tsa be li mpōpa phoofolo, ka hana;

[I refused ;

They said I should be a man, 1 still Tsa re ke be monna, le teng ka hana,

[refused,

They said I should be a bird with Tsa re ke be nonyana ka mapheo, ke fofe,

[wings to fly, I refused ; ka hana ;

At last they thought better, Tsa ba tsa hopola hantle,

They said I should be a woman, I Tsa re ke be mosali, ka lumela.

[agreed.

172 FOLK-TALES

and came to her. They arrived, gathered round her ; they tried
to take it, it stuck fast. They said : Her mother's ghosts are
holding it fast ; let us go.

Her sister appeared, coming out of the water, still leaning on
her iron staff. She sang :

It is the large thulare, Mosimotsane,

When I had gone to my husband's, Mosimotsane,

You told me a lie, Mosimotsane,

That mother of yours, Mosimotsane,

She crushed me, she crushed me, Mosimotsane,

With a hard grinding stone, Mosimotsane ;

The crocodile moulded me, moulded me, Mosimotsane.
She struck her with her iron staff; she troubled, she troubled,
she troubled, she troubled the water, saying : Take and give
to your father and mother, that they may drink it. She went
back into the water.

Mosimotsane took the pitcher on her head and went back
home. Her mother said : Mosimotsane, why were you crying
so ? She was silent, answering not. — Mosimotsane why are
you silent when I question you ? Why do you keep silent when
you have become so thin ? She said : I have been struck by Mo-
simoli. — Where is Mosimoli to strike you so ? I have killed
her. She said : She is yonder in the pool near the fountain.
Always when I go to the fountain with the other girls my pit-
cher sticks fast to the ground ; then they go up and return home.
Then Mosimoli is in the habit of coming, she comes leaning on
an iron staff. When she comes, she comes singing :

It is the large thulare, Mosimotsane,

When I had gone to my husband's, Mosimotsane,

You told me a lie, Mosimotsane,

That mother of yours, Mosimotsane,

She crushed me, she crushed me, Mosimotsane,

With a hard grinding stone, Mosimotsane,

The crocodile moulded me, moulded me, Mosimotsane.

The mother said : Is it really so, my child ? She said : Yes.
Then she told the father.

Next morning the father went to that fountain to lie in watch ;
he went, entered some bushes, and hid himself there the whole
day. They came, the other girls. — Mosimotsane, let us go to the
fountain. She took her pitcher and went with them. They
arrived, they drew, they drew, they drew, they drew water ;
they went on playing, they played, they played, they played,
they played. — Let us leave and go home, the sun has set. They
took their pitchers, they put them on their heads. Hers stuck
fast to the ground, They put theirs down and gathered round
her ; it stuck fast. They said : Her mother's ghosts are holding-
it fast. They went away ; she stayed there.

She appeared, Mosimoli, still leaning on her iron staff, sing-
ing :

Mosimoli and Mosimotsane 173

A hlaha ngoan'abo, a tsoa metsing, a ntse a ikokotlela ka lere
la tšepe, a re :

Ke thulare e kholo, Mosimotsane,

Ke itse ke ile bohali, Mosimotsane,

Ua nkakela leshano, Mosimotsane,

Eena 'm'ao eo, Mosimotsane,

A nkhoba, a nkhoba, Mosimotsane,

Ka lejoe la 'molo, Mosimotsane ;

Koena ea mpōpa, ea mpōpa, Mosimotsane.

A mo otla ka lere la tsepe ; a lube, a lube, a lube, a lube, a re:
Nka u nee ntat'ao le 'm'ao, ba je. A boela metsing.

Mosimotsane a roale, a khutlele hae. 'M'ae a re : Mosimotsa-
ne, u no u ntse u llela'ng ? A khutsa, a re tu. — Mosimotsane, u
khutsetsa'ng ke ntse ke u botsa ? U khutsetsa'ng ha u otile
hakale ? A re : Ke 'ne ke otloe ke Mosimoli. — Mosimoli a u
otle a le hokae, ke 'molaile ? A re : O letšeng lane pel'a seliba.
Ere ha ke ile selibeng le banana ba bang, nkho ea ka e hanele
fatše. Banana ba bang ba role tsa bona, ba re ba nthoesa, e
hanele fatše ; ba be ba nyolohe, ba ee hae. Ebe Mosimoli oa
tla, o tla ci ikokotlttse ka lere la tšepe ; ere ha a e-tla, a tie a
nts'a re :

Ke thulare e kholo, Mosimotsane,

Ke itse ke ile bohali, Mosimotsane,

Ua nkakela leshano, Mosimotsane,

Eena 'm'ao eo, Mosimotsane,

A nkhoba, a nkhoba, Mosimotsane,

Ka lejoe la 'molo, Mosimotsane;

Koena ea mpōpa, ea mpōpa, Mosimotsane.

'M'ae a re : Eu, ngoan'a ka ? A re : E. Eaba o bolella ntat'ae.

Ntat'ae, eitse hosasane a ea selibeng seo ho ea lalla; a kena
lihlahleng, a ipata teng letsatsi lohle. Ba tla he banana ba
bang : Mosimotsane, a re eeng selibeng. A nka nkho, a ea le
bona. Ba fihle, ba khelle, ba khelle, ba khelle, ba khelle ; ba
'na ba bapala, ba bapala, ba bapala, ba bapala. — Ha re tsa-
maeeng, re ee hae, letsatsi le liketse. Ba nke linkho tsa bona, ba
li roale. Ea hae e hanele fatše ; ba role, ba e bokanele, e hane.
Ba re: Thotsela tsa 'm'ae li e tšoere. Ba tsamaee, a sale mona.

A hlaha Mosimoli, a ntse a ikokotlela ka lere la hae la tsepe,
a re :

174 FOLK-TALES

It is the large thulare, Mosimotsane,

When I had gone to my husband's, Mosimotsane,

You told me a lie, Mosimotsane,

That mother of yours, Mosimotsane,

She crushed me, she crushed me, Mosimotsane,

With a hard grinding stone, Mosimotsane ;

The crocodile moulded me, moulded me, Mosimotsane.
As she was about to strike her with her iron staff, the father
said : Oho ! my child, I pray you. She said : Who is your
child ? Both of you have killed me ; as for me, I am the child of
the crocodile. Her father implored her : Oho ! my child ! —
Why did you kill me ? You killed me on account of a little
milk. My father and mother are the crocodile. She went back,
returned into the water.

The father went up home ; he arrived and told the mother.
The mother said : Is it so ? He said : It is she, it is really she,
she is exactly as before. Her father took many cattle ; he ga-
thered oxen. They drove them, they brought them to the croco-
dile's pool.1 Cattle and people were gathered there. The cro-
codile came out, and said : What is the matter ? The father
said : I have come to redeem my child, chief.

The crocodile went back into the water to speak with Mosi-
moli. Mosimoli consented. The crocodile came out ; it arrived
and said : Throw the cattle in. They drove them in ; they
all sank under the water into the pool. It went again into the
water, it went, it went, it went, it went, it went, it went ; a long
time elapsed. It appeared carrying a mat ; it arrived and
spread it. It went back to fetch her belongings, her garments,
her bead ornaments, her bracelets ; it arrived and put them on
the mat.

It went back ; another moment passed. It appeared with her,
she was still leaning upon her iron staff. Then the crocodile
said : This one is my child, you may kill her. When they have
killed you, come back to me ; as for me, I love you, I shall re-
ceive you. It gave her some cattle, it gave her a pack ox, her
belongings were tied on it. She went home. In the morning
she passed on, going to where she was married.
It is the end of the tale.

I The cattle are a reward to the crocodile for having saved and brought up
Mosimoli. The bird Tlatlasolle (cf. No. XV) and the old woman in the tale of
Kumonngoe (No. XVII) are rewarded in the same manner. As explained before

Mosimoli and Mosimotsane 175.

Ke thulare e kholo, Mosimotsane,

Ke itse ke ile bohali, Mosimotsane,

Ua nkakela leshano, Mosimotsane,

Eena 'm'ao eo, Mosimotsane,

A nkhoba, a nkhoba, Mosimotsane,

Ka lejoe la 'molo, Mosimotsane;

Koena ea mpōpa, ea mpōpa, Mosimotsane.
Eitse ha a mo otla ka lere, ntat'ae a re : Oho, ngoan'a ka, kea
u rapela. A re : Ngoan'a hao ke mang ? Le ne le mpolaea ; 'na
ke ngoana oa koena. Ntat'ae a mo rapela : Oho, ngoan'a ka ? —
Le ne le mpolaela'ng? le ne le mpolaela lebese. 'Na, ntate le
'mè ke koena. Eaba oa khutla, a boela metsing.

Ntat'ae a nyolohela hae, a fihla, a bolella 'm'ae. 'M'ae a re :
Oee ? A re : Ke eena, ke eena feela, o nts'a le joale ka hoja.
Ntat'ae a ntša likhomo tse ngata; a bokella makhomo ; a kha-
nnoa, a isoa letšeng la koena. Ha bokana likhomo le batho.
Eaba koena ea tsoa, ea re : Taba ke life ? Ntat'ae a re : Ke tlile
ho lopolla ngoan'a ka, morena.

Eaba koena e khutlela ka metsing, e ea buisana le Mosimoli..
Eaba Mosimoli oa lumela. Eaba koena ea tsoa, ea fihla, ea re :.
Li liheleng. Eaba ba li khanna, li teba kaofela metsing ka
har'a boliba ka mona. Ea kena, ea ea, ea ea, ea ea, ea ea, ea
ea, ea ea, ea e-ba khale ; ea hlaha e nkile moseme, ea fihla, ea
o ala. Ea khutla, e ea nka liphahlo, likobo, lifaha, mefitšana ;.
ea fihla, ea bokella holim'a moseme ona.

Ea khutla, ea boela ea ea motsotsonyana. Ea hlaha le eena,
a nts'a ikokotlela ka lere la hae la tšepe. Eaba koena e re : Ke
enoa ngoan'a ka, le tie le 'molaee ; ebe ha ba u bolaile u khutle-
le ho 'na ; 'na kea u rata, ke tla u amohela. Eaba e mo fa
likhomo tse ling, e mo nehela pelesa e 'ngoe, ho bofshoa lipha-
hlo tsa hae ho eona ; o ea hae. Ere hoasane a feta, a se a ea
ha hae bohali ba hae.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

there is a country under the water where the people and cattle can live as well
as above ground.

176 FOLK-TALES

XXV
MARAILANE ABO KHOSI

They say there was Marailane ; he had married several wives.
The last one was Lielie ; his musical instruments2 were kept at
Lielie's. At evening Marailane used to take them down from
the peg, and they gave out their music at Lielie's all the night
through.

Marailane went to the veldt ; he was a herd, he did not usually
stay at home. Lielie told the wives of Marailane, saying : In
my hut there are the musical instruments ; at evening Marailane
usually takes them down, and they give out their music. They
said : Ao ! our sister, show them to us. She brought them in,
arrived, entered, took them down ; she spoke to them, and they
gave their music, they gave out their music, they gave out their
music.

Marailane heard it from the veldt ; he said : Lielie has taken
down my musical instruments. Now Lielie told the wives of
Marailane, saying : Go out now, Marailane will kill me. They
went out. She took the musical instruments, hung them on
the wall, they fell down. She said : What shall I do ? She took
them again and hung them; they fell down. She ran away, and
went to her parents.

Marailane arrived at evening, went into his hut, and found
his musical instruments lying on the ground. He was angry.
He slept, still angry. The night cleared off. He rose in the
morning. He called a messenger and said : Stand up and say :
The great one says. He stood up and said : The great one
says. Now all the people gathered in mass. They gathered in
MaraiJane's court.

Over yonder, at the parents of Lielie, they were also making
their preparations ; they were dressing her. Marailane sent the

I A Ba-Suto tale very similar to this one is published by A. SEKESE {op. cit.
p. 196) under the tittle Serapda. I also possess another version of it, but mixed
with fragments of other tales, where the wife is called Lilare,

Marailane 'abo Khosi means: Marailane the brother of Khosi (or the brother of
the chief).

Marailanc 'abo khosi 17 7

XXV

MARAILANE 'ABO KHOSI

Ba re e ne e le Marailane a nyetse basali. E monyenyane e
be e le Lielie, likopo li lula ha Lielie. Ere ka phirimana Ma-
railane a li panyolle, li bine ha Lielie ka masiu 'ohle.

Marailane a ea naheng, e le molisa, a sa lule hae. Lielie a re
ho basali ba Marailane, a re : Ha ka ho na le likopo ; ere ka
phirimana Marailane a li panyolle, li 'ne li bine. Ba re : Ao,
ngoan'eso, u ke u e'o re bontša. Eaba oa ba isa, a fihla, a kena,
a li panyolla ; a li rokela, eaba lia bina, tsa bina, tsa bina, tsa
bina.

Marailane a utloa a le naheng, a re: Lielie o fanyoletse li-
kopo. Eaba Lielie o bolella basali ba Marailane, a re: Joale
tsoang, Marailane o ea tla mpolaea. Eaba ba tsoa ; a li kuka,
a li panyeha, tsa oa. A li kuka, a li panyeha, tsa oa. A re :
Ke tla etsa joang ? A li nka hape, a li panyeha, tsa oa. A baleha,
a ea habo.

Marailane a fihla mantsiboea, a kena katlung, a fumana kopo
li le fatše. A hlonama; a robala a hloname. Bosiu ba e-sa. A
tsoha hosasane. A bitse leqosa, a re : U eme, u re : e moholo o
re. A ema, a re : E moholo o re. Eaba batho ba phutheha ka
bongata, ba phutheha khotla ha Marailane.

Ka mane-ne, ka habo Lielie, le bona ba etsa mosebetsi, ba
ntse ba mo lokisa. Marailane a roma leqosa la pele, a re :

2 I translate the word likopo by musical instruments. It is another of those
obsolete words found in tales of which the real meaning has been lost. But it is
evident that likopo must be musical instruments of a wonderful kind. In A. Se-
kese's version they are replaced by birds; in another version it is even "the bird
that excretes milk" which replaces them.

178 FOLK-TALES

first messenger, saying : Go yonder, and call Lielie ; when you
call her, say •}

You are called, Lielie; you are called, Lielie!

It is said that you must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,
Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.
He went up and said :
You are called, Lielie ; you are called, Lielie !

It is said that you must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,
Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.
Lielie answered, speaking so :

I hear, I am coming; I hear, I am coming;

It is said that I must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,
Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.
The messenger went back, returned. Another one was sent. —
Go up and call Lielie ; you must call her just as the first one.
He went up; Lielie's people were still dressing Lielie. The
messenger said :

You are called, Lielie; you are called, Lielie!

It is said that you must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,

Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.

She said :

I hear, I am coming; I hear, I am coming;

It is said that I must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,
Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.
The messenger went back, he returned, he arrived, he sat
down. Another one was sent. — Go and call her just as the
second one. Lielie was now leaving home, she was coming up
because Marailane's village was on a rise and Lielie's people's
village was on a lower ground. The messenger said :
You are called, Lielie; you are called, Lielie!

It is said that you must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,
Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.
Lielie said :

I hear, I am coming; I hear, I am coming;

It is said that I must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,
Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.
The messenger went back ; it was so till all the messengers
had been sent. The last messenger was sent, the last of all the
messengers. Lielie was now in the middle of the ascent ; she had
taken her iron staff, and was leaning on it. The last messenger
went up, and said :

You are called, Lielie; you are called, Lielie !

It is said that you must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,
Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.
She said :

I In the variant alluded to above the song reads :
You are called, Lilare, you are called, Ua bitsoa, Lilare, ua bitsoa, Lilare,

[Lilare,

Marat lane 'abo klwsi 179

Hlaha mono-no, u bitse Lielie ; etFere ha u 'mitsa, u re :

Ua bitsoa, Lielie; ua bitsoa, Lielie,
Ho thoe u tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.

A hlaha, a re :

Ua bitsoa, Lielie; ua bitsoa, Lielie,
Ho thoe u tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.

Lielie a araba, a re :

Kea utloa, kea tla; kea utloa, kea tla;
Ho thoe ke tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.
La khutla leqosa, la boela. Ha rongoa le leng. — Hlaha u
bitse Lielie ; u tla bitsa joale ka oa pele. La hlaha, ba ntse ba
lokisa Lielie, babo Lielie. La re :

Ua bitsoa, Lielie; ua bitsoa, Lielie,
Ho thoe u tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.

A re:

Kea utloa, kea tla; kea utloa, kea tla;
Ho thoe ke tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.
La boela leqosa ; la khutla, la lula. Ha rongoa le leng. — U
e'o bitsa joale ka leqosa la bobeli. Lielie joale o tloha hae, oa
nyoloha, hobane Marailane habo e le ka holimo, Lielie habo e
le katlase. La re :

Ua bitsoa, Lielie; ua bitsoa, Lielie,
Ho thoe u tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.
Lielie a re :

Kea utloa, kea tla; kea utloa, kea tla;
Ho thoe ke tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.
La khutla, la boela, ho rihlela maqosa ana a fella kaofela. La
qetello la rongoa le qetellang maqosa kaofela. Lielie joale o
ka hare ho moepa ; o nkile lere la hae la tsepe, o nts'a ikokotle-
la ka lona. La hlaha leqosa la qetello, la re :

Ua bitsoa, Lielie ; ua bitsoa, Lielie,
Ho thoe u tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,
Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.

A re:

They say you have spoiled the likopo Ho thoe u sentse kopo tsa morena,

[of the chief,
Of the chief, of Marailanyane. Tsa morena, tsa Marailanyane .

i8o FOLK-TALES

I hear, I am coming; I hear, I am coming;

It is said that I must bring back the musical instruments of the chief,

Of Marailane 'abo Khosi.

Now she appeared, Lielie ; she appeared at the top of the rise.
When she appeared there, Marailane said: Down upon ner !
They pursued her and stoned her with stones; they struck her
also with sticks. They threw her down into the gorge. Then
Lielie died.

In the middle of the night Lielie came back to life. She
crawled, she crawled on her hands, going towards her home.
She arrived home ; her parents took her and brought her into
their hut. They made porridge for her, thev nursed her, they
doctored her wounds, they anointed her with ointment. Then
she got well. They made her grow fat ; she grew fat.1

On a certain day Marailane invited his people to come to his
village for a singing feast. Then Lielie's parents dressed Lielie,
they dressed her, they adorned her with ornaments, they adorned
her with ornaments ; they put into her hand her iron staff.

She went up with a troop of maidens; she went up to Marai-
lane's. When she appeared, Marailane asked : Is it not my
wife ? They said : Yes. Then he said : She must not go yonder,
she is my wife. He took her, he married her ;2 she became
again Marailane's wife. The musical instruments were again
kept in Lielie's hut.

It is the end of the tale.

XXVI

NTETEKOANE 3

They say that there was a chief who had married many wives.
He went a-hunting and killed a tortoise. He went to his first
wife, saying : Cook me my tortoise. She refused, saying : I do

I In the other version Lilare, the wife of Marailane, is really killed. Her
father takes Lilare' s bones, and puts them in a bag which he hangs in his hut. After
a few days they begin to show signs of life ; a few days afterwards the hands

Ntetekoane l8l

Kea utloa, kea tla; kea utloa, kea tla;

Ho thoe ke tl'o ntša kopo tsa morena,

Tsa Marailane 'abo khosi.
Ke ha a hlaha he, a hlahela kaholimo. Ha a hlahela kaholi-
mo, Marailane a re: Ho eena ! Ba mo phallela, ba mo tlapunya
le ka majoe, ba mo bata le ka melamu. Ba mo lihela ka kho-
hlong. Eaba Lielie oa shoa.

Eitse bosiu bo boholo Lielie a tsoha. A khasa, a khasa ka
matsoho, a ea habo. Eaba o fihla habo ; eaba ba mo kuka, ba
mo kenya tlung. Ba mo fehlela motoho, ba mo phekola, ba mo
oka maqeba ana, ba mo tšela ka moilolo. Eaba oa fola ; ba mo
nontsa, a nona.

Ka tsatsi le leng Marailane a bitsa, a re ho uoe pineng ha hae.
Eaba bahabo Lielie ba lokisa Lielie; ba mo lokisa ; ba mo
khabisa ka likhabiso tsa hae, ba mo khabisa ka likhabiso tsa
hae ; ba mo tsoarisa lere la hae la tšepe ka letsoho la hae.

A hlaha ka sehlopha sa baroetsana, a nyolohela ha Marailane.
Eitse ha a hlaha Marailane a re : Ebe ke mosali oa ka eo. Eaba
ba re : E. Eaba o re : Ha a phete a ea ka mane, ke mosali oa
ka. A mo kuka, a mo nyala ; ea boela ea e-ba mosali oa Ma-
railane. Llkopo tsa boela tsa lula ha Lielie.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXVI

NTETEKOANE

Ba re e ne e le monna, a nyetse basali ba le bangata. A ea
tšolong, a bolaea khulu. A ea ho mosali oa pele, e moholo, a
re : Nkapehele khulu ena. A hana, a re : Ha ke apehe khulu.

appear, then the feet, then the head, then the eyes. Lilare has come back to life.

2 Marailane has to marry her, that is, to give cattle to her parents as a
-dowry.

3 I do not know any tale like this in African folklore.

1 82 FOLK-TALES

not cook a tortoise. He went to another, saying : Cook me my
tortoise. She also refused, saying : I do not cook a tortoise. He
went to a third one : Cook me my tortoise. She refused, saying :
I do not cook a tortoise. He went to all his wives ; all refused.

He then went to the last of all, saying : Cook me my tortoise.
She took it and cooked it. When it was well cooked, she dished
it up and covered it. Then she went out for a visit. The head
wife came, uncovered the pot, took the tortoise and ate it. She
took the shell of the tortoise after she had eaten, put it back in
the pot, and covered it. Then she went away, returned to her
home.

The husband came, asking: Where is my tortoise? The
woman said : It is there in the pot. The husband took the pot,
uncovered it, and found there was only the shell. He told her:
You have eaten my tortoise. She denied, saying : I did not eat
it. The husband insisted strongly, saying : You did eat it. She
denied, saying : I did not eat it. The husband then left her alone.

He went to a doctor. The doctor asked the divining bones.
He said : Your tortoise has been eaten by that one of your
wives who refused to cook it. Go and procure a sinew of the
koodoo antelope, spin it and make a long rope ; then go with
that rope you have spun. The husband called many people, he
called also all his wives. He went with them to the pool ; one
of the men stood on that side holding the rope, another stood
on this side holding the rope ; it was held by two men.

The last wife of all had to begin walking upon the rope. She
stood up, walked upon it, singing :

Sinew of a koodoo break, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
That I fall down there into the pool, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
It is said that I did eat the tortoise, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
It is not I who did eat the tortoise, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
That I fall down there into the pool, Ntetekoane, that I fall down.

She crossed, she crossed over to the other side.

The chief called another one ; she came, she walked upon
the rope , she also began to sing :

Sinew of a koodoo break, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
That I fall down there into the pool, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
It is said that I did eat the tortoise, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
It is not I who did eat the tortoise, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
That I fall down there into the pool, Ntetekoane, that I fall down.

She also crossed.

He did so to all of them, till it came to the head wife, the
one he had first asked to cook the tortoise for him. — Walk
upon the sinew of the koodoo. She stood up and walked, singing :
Sinew of a koodoo break, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
That I fall down there into the pool, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
It is said that I did eat the tortoise, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
It is not I who did eat the tortoise, Ntetekoane, that I fall down,
That I fall down there into the pool, Ntetekoane, that I fall down.

Ntetekoane 183

A ea ho e mong, a re ho eena : Nkapehele khulu. Le eena a
hana, a re : Ha ke apehe khulu. A ea ho oa boraro : Nkape-
hele khulu. Eaba oa hana, a re : Ha ke apehe khulu. A ea ho
basali ba hae kaofela ; eaba ba hana kaofela.

Eaba o ea ho e monyenyane, a re : Nkapehele khulu. A e
kuka, a e apeha. Hobane e butsoe, a e tšola, a e koahela.
Eaba oa chaka. Ha tla mosali e moholo, a koaholla pitsa, a
nka khulu, a e ja. A nka makhapetla a khulu, hobane a e je, a
a busetsa pitseng, a koahela. Eaba oa tsamaea, a ea ha hae.

Monna a tla, a re : Khulu ea ka e kae ? A re : Ke eno mono
pitseng. Monna a nka pitsana, a e koaholla, a fumana e le
makhapetla feela. A re ho eena : Khulu u e jele. A itatola, a
re : Ha kea e ja. A phehella ka matla monna, a re : U e jele.
A itatola, a re : Khulu ha kea e ja. Eaba monna oa mo tlohela.

Eaba o ea ho ngaka. Ngaka ea laola, ea re : Khulu e jeloe
ke mosali oa hao ea hanneng ho e apeha ; tsamaea, u e'o batla
lesika la tholo, u le ohle, u etse khoele e telele ; ebe u ea le
khoele eo u e ohlileng. Eaba o bitsa batho ba bangata, o
bitsa le basali ba hae kaofela; a ea le bona letšeng, e mong a
erne ka 'ngane a tšoere khoele, e mong a erne ka 'nga e ka
koano a tšoere khoele, e tšoeroe ke batho ba babeli.

A qala ka e monyenyane hore a tsamaee holim'a khoele. Oa
ema, o tsamaea holim'a eona, a re :

Lesika la tholo khaoha, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ke oele moo bolibeng, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ho itsoe ke jele khulu, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
'Na khulu ha kea e ja, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ke oele moo bolibeng, Ntetekoane, ke oele.

Eaba oa tšela, o tšelela ka mose oane.

A bitsa e mong; a tla, a tsamaea holim'a khoele; a qala le
eena, a re :

Lesika la tholo khaoha, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ke oele moo bolibeng, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ho itsoe ke jele khulu, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
'Na khulu ha kea e ja, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ke oele moo bolibeng, Ntetekoane, ke oele.

Eaba le eena oa tšela.

A ba etsa joalo kaofela, ho fihlela e moholo eo a qalileng ka
eena hore a mo apehele khulu. — Tsamaea holim'a lesika
la tholo. A ema, a tsamaea, a re :

Lesika la tholo khaoha, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ke oele moo bolibeng, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
Ho itsoe ke jele khulu, Ntetekoane, ke oele,
'Na khulu ha kea e ja, Ntetekoane, ke oele.
Ke oele moo bolibeng, Ntetekoane, ke oele.

184 FOLK-TALES

The sinew broke with a sudden clang. She fell down

into the pool, and died. Then they left the pool and went back
home.

It is the end of the tale.

XXVII
SEILATSATSI OA MOHALE. *

It is said that Mohale's wife had no child ; a doctor was
fetched. The doctor cooked medicines for her.2 She became
pregnant and gave birth to that child, Seilatsatsi. She was
called Seilatsatsi because the doctor said that the child should
not be brought outside in the daylight.3 The girl grew up in
a hut, not being allowed to go outside during the day ; the hut
was kept closed. Then she became a maiden, never going out
in the daylight ; she only went out at dusk.

Now the son of a chief — his name was Masilo — refused
to marry any girls. There were many maidens in his father's
village, but he did not want them. Now he heard and was told by
people that : There is a beautiful maiden called Seilatsatsi ;
but how can she ever be married? He asked: Where is she?
They said : At Mohale's, she is Mohale's daughter.

The young man went there ; he found that beautiful, shining
maiden. He went and saw her. He went back and said :

I Seilatsatsi oa Mohale means Seilatsatsi, daughter of Mohale. I posses a
variant of this tale, similar to it in every respect, with the one exception that
the husband is called Butane not Masilo. The Kaffir story of Tangalimlibo
(THEAL, op. cit. p. 54; TORREND, op. cit. p. 314) is in its first part an exact
parallel to the Ba-Suto tale. Tangalimlibo (or more correctly Tangalomlibo, as
she is called in Torrend's version) can only go out at night; she is therefore
called Sihamba-nge-nyanga, the walker by moonlight. During the absence of
her husband her father-in-law sends her to the river in the daylight. She tries
in vain to draw water, and finally sinks under it, and lives there. Every day
her little baby is brought to her by a young girl to suckle. At last the husband
comes to know of it ; they try vainly to pull her out of the water with thongs,
but the river follows her up and takes her back. The parents of Tangalomlibo
are then sent for and succeed in rescuing her, after having slaughtered an ox

Seilatsatsi oa Mohale 185

Lesika la khaoha, la re qhoi ! Eaba o oela bolibeng, eaba

oa shoa. Joale ba tloha letšeng, ba boela hae.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXVII

SEILATSATSI OA MOHALE

Ha thoe mohats'a Mohale o ba a se na ngoana ; joale ha
batloa ngaka. Joale ngaka ea mo phehela. Joale he a emara,
a tsoala ngoana eo Seilatsatsi. Ke Seilatsatsi ka hobane ngaka
e itse ngoana eo a se ke a tlisoa kantle motšeare. Joale ngoa-
na eloa a holela ka tlung, a sa tsebe ho tsoela kantle motšeare,
ho ntso ho koetsoe. Eaba e ba moroetsana, a sa tsoele kantle
motseare, a tsoela kantle ka phirimana.

Joale he mohlankana oa morena e mong — ■ ho thoe ke Masilo
— joale o na a hana baroetsana. Joale baroetsana ba ba ba
e-ba bangata moo ha habo, a sa ba rate. Joale o na a utioa, a
joetsoa ke batho, ba re : Moroetsana e motle o teng, ke Seila-
tsatsi ; homme a ka nyaloa joang ? Joale o na a re : O hokae ?
Ba ne ba re : Ha Mohale ; ke morali oa Mohale.

Joale he mohlankana enoa o na a ea. Joale he o na a fnma-
na moroetsana eo a benyang. Joale o na a ea, a bona moroe-

and thrown it into the water. In the Ronga folklore we have the tale of The
wife of the chameleon (JUNOD, op. cit. p. 138) in which a woman is under a taboo
of another kind, she must neither grind nor cook. Her mother-in-law obliges
her to grind and she sinks under the ground. The Zambezi tale of Mwale
(JACOTTET, Textes Louyi, p. 56) is exactly similar to the Ronga tale ; Mwale,
obliged to work, sinks under the ground, but is brought back by the spells of
her sister (in the Ronga story the wife remains lost for ever).

2 In the Kaffir version of Theal, a bird gives pellets to a barren woman, she
eats them and then gives birth to Tangalimlibo ; cf. a similar feature in the
story of Nyopakatala (JACOTTET, Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p. 99), where two
pigeons give children to a barren woman.

3 Seilatsatsi means the one who avoids the sun.

1 86 FOLK-TALES

Father, I have seen a beautiful maiden. His father said : Where
did you see her ? He said : At Mohale's. The father said :
Do you mean Seilatsatsi ? — Yes. The father said : Oo !
Seilatsatsi cannot be married, because she does not go out in
the daylight ; she only goes out at dusk. The young man
said: It is she 1 will marry. The father refused to consent, all
the people refused too. But in the end the young man prevailed.

Now the father went to Mohale. He spoke of Seilatsatsi,
saying : My son desires to marry Seilatsatsi. Mohale said :
No! what could he do with her ? She has sisters, one of whom
your son can marry. Call your son to come and see my
daughters whom he may marry. He called his son ; those
girls were also fine maidens. Masilo looked at them closely,
and said : Well ! they are beautiful, but I want Seilatsatsi.
They said : How will you manage with her ? He said : I shall
take good care of her. So she was married to Masilo, Seilatsa-
tsi oa Mohale.

She went to her husband, she went at night. A big hut had
been arranged where the girls were to stay. They came. The
girls and the young men stayed in that hut.1 Now Masilo
said : I am thirsty. A girl went out and drew water for him.
She gave it to Masilo ; he poured it on the ground. He said
again : I am thirsty. Another girl went out and drew water
for him. She gave it to Masilo ; he poured it on the ground,
saying that he wanted his wife to draw it for him.

Now they said : Hele ! this affair looks bad. They told
'Mamasilo, they told Ramasilo, they said : Masilo says he is
thirsty ; when we went to draw water for him he poured it out ;
and now he says that his wife must draw water for him. His
mother said: Hele! it is a bad affair; we told him well, we
said that this girl ought not to be married. His mother came,
carrying water. She gave it to Masilo, Masilo poured it out.
Then his father came, and said : Masilo, is it not what we told
you ? and now when you say that Mohale's daughter must go
out and draw water, what do you mean ? Masilo wept and said
that he was dying of thirst. The wife wept because her
husband urged her to go and draw water for him.2

Then she went out, after the mother had left, and the father
had left also. When she was there, outside the very door of
the hut, the sun was darkened ; she became an antheap.3 They

1 According to an old Ba-Suto custom, when a young wife is first taken to
her husband's village, the girls who escort her spend the night with the young
men of the village, drinking beer and singing. This custom is called ho ralla.

2 In the Zulu and Kaffir stories it is the father-in-law who sends the wife to
the river. In the Ronga and Zambezi stories it is her mother-in-law who ob-

Sell at sat si oa Mohale 187

tsana eo. Joale o na a khutla, a re : Ntate, ke bone moroetsana
e motle. Ntat'ae o na a re : U 'mone kae ? O na a re: Ha
Mohale. Ntat'ae o na a re: Na ha u bolele Seilatsatsi ? — E.
Ntat'ae o na a re : Oo, Seilatsatsi ha a na ho nyaloa, hobane
ha a tsamaee motšeare ; o tsamaea ka phirima. Joale mohla-
nkana o na a re : Ke nyala eena. Ntat'ae o na a hana ; batho
bao ba hana. Joale hamorao ha hlōla mohlankana.

Joale he ntat'ae o na a ea ho Mohale. Joale o na a bolela
lebitso la Seilatsatsi, a re : Mor'a ka o re o nyala Seilatsatsi.
Joale Mohale o na a re : En-en, a ka mo etsa joang ? banab'abo
ba teng bao mor'a hao a ka nyalang ho bona. Bitsa mor'a hao
a tl'o bona barali ba ka bao a ka ba nyalang. Joale o na a
bitsa mor'a hae, le bona e le batho ba batle. Joale o na a ba
talimisisa, o na a re : En-en, ba batle, empa ke batla Seilatsatsi.
Ba ne ba re : U ea mo etsa joang ? O na a re : Ke tla 'moloka.
Joale he o na a nyaloa ke Masilo, Seilatsatsi oa Mohale.

Joale o na a ea bohali ho monna, a ea bosiu. Joale ho no ho
lokisitsoe ntlo e kholo moo ba ea flhlela teng. Ba ne ba fihla.
Joale bahlankana le baroetsana ba lula tlung eo. Joale he
Masilo o na a re : Ke nyoriloe. Moroetsana e mong o na a tsoa,
a ea kha metsi. O a nea Masilo, Masilo oa a tšolla. O na a
eketsa a re : Ke nyoriloe. Moroetsana e mong o na a e-tsoa, a
ea kha metsi. O na a a nea Masilo, Masilo o na a a tšolla, a re
a e'o khelloa ke mosali oa hae.

Joale ba ne ba re : Hele ! taba tsena li mpe. Ba joetsa 'Mama-
silo, ba joetsa Ramasilo, ba re : Masilo o re o nyoriloe, joale
re itse re mo khella metsi, a a tsolla ; joale a re mosali a mo
khelle metsi. Joale 'm'a hae o na a re : Hele ! ke taba e thata,
re mo joelitse, ra re ngoana eo ha a ria ho nyaloa. 'M'a hae o
na a tla a tšoere metsi. Joale a nea Masilo, Masilo a a tsolla.
Joale ntat'ae o na a e-tla, a re : Masilo, na hase taba eo re u
joelitseng ? Ha u re ngoan'a Mohale a tsoe, a e'o u khella metsi
motseare ona, u re'ng? Masilo o na a 11a, a re, nyora le mo
qetile. Mosali o na a 11a ka baka la hobane monna o mo phe-
heletse, a re, a e'o mo khella metsi.

Joale o na a tloha, hoba 'm'ae a khutle, le ntat'ae a khutle.
Eitse ha a le mono monyako oa ntlo, letsatsi la re fi ; eaba o
fetoha seolo. Ba re : Bona he. Eaba ba utloa sello. Joale he

liges her to break through the taboo.

3 In a Bondei story (WOODWARD, op. cit. p, 32) men are also changed by a
witch into antheaps. In the Zambezi tales of The hare and his wife and Mba-
langwe (JACOTTET, Textes Louyi, pp. 10 and 63) a woman is changed into a tree,
probably too for violation of a taboo.

1 88 FOLK-TALES

said : See now. They heard a weeping. He also wept now,
Masilo. Then people asked : What is it ? what is it ? come and
see what Masilo has done, there is the daughter of Mohale
turned into an antheap. Now he wept much, Masilo. — What
must be done ? This is how you take good care of her when
you act Lfius ?

Now it was said : Dog, go and tell what has happened. The
dog said : It is easy ; I am going. — What will you say when
you arrive ? I shall arrive and say : U-u-u ! — Bee ! you are of no
use. It was said : Hen, come here, we are sending you. The
hen said : I am going. — What will you say when you arrive ?
The hen said : I shall arrive and say : Kokolo-kolokoo, your
daughter is standing rigid in the villages of strangers. It
said again : I shall say : Seilatsatsi is standing rigid in the
villages of strangers. They said : Now it is all right.1

They put two rings on one of its legs, on the other they put
two rings also. They said : Now be off. The hen ran ; the
rings were making a noise: qoele, qoele ; they were striking
against each other : tsere, tsere. It arrived. The people were
staying in the hut. They were gathered there, drinking strong
beer. It flew and stood on the roof of the hut, saying : Kokolo-
kolokoo, Seilatsatsi oa Mohale is standing rigid in the villages
of strangers. They said : Alas ! woe to us ! some evil has
happened.

Her mother went to the back part of the hut, uncovered a big
pot, and found that the little pot of Seilatsatsi was broken.2 —
My child is dead! They went to the doctor who had doctored
her mother so that she might have a child. They told the
doctor. The doctor went, arrived at Ramasilo's, and saw that
antheap. -

He scarified it with his medicines, he scarified it, he scarified
it. He said : Bring a sheep. They brought a sheep. He
said : Slaughter it. They slaughtered it ; they flayed it, they
flayed it, they flayed it. Then he said : Bring the skin and
give it to me. They gave him the skin. Then he anointed the

I In the Kaffir and Ronga versions they likewise try to send animals to re-
port the catastrophe to the wife's parents, and at last succeed in finding in the
cock an intelligent and trustworthy messenger. In the Zambezi tale of Mivale
the messenger is a small bird called the nalungwana. In a Hottentot story
(BLEEK, op. cit. p. 65) the guinea fowl reports the murder of three brothers
killed by their sister. The boy Nrille in a Wa-Dshame story {Zeitschrifi fitr
afrik. unci ocean. Sprachen, III, p. 72) sends different birds to announce his
arrival; and in a Ronga story (JUNOD, op. cit. p. 150) the frog sends a bird to tell
Masingwe that it has rescued his daughters from a cannibal. In a Ma-Nganja
tale (Zeit.fiir afrik. unci ocean. Sprachen, III, p. 355) the hare also sends a bird to>
call the crocodile.

Seilatsatsi oa Mohalc 1 89

le eena oa 11a Masilo. Joale he : Ke'ng ? ke'ng ? tl'o boneng
taba tsa Masilo; ngoan'a Mohale ke enoa a s'a fetohile seolo.
Joale o 11a haholo Masilo. — Ho ea etsoa joang ? ho ea etsoa
joang ? Ke hona u 'molokang ha u mo entse joalo ?

Joale he ho no ho thoe : Mpja, tsamaea u e'o beha. Mpja e
ne e re : Ho bonolo, kea ea. — U ea fihla u re'ng ? — Ke ea
fihla ke re : U-u-u ! — Bee, ha u na taba. Ho no ho thoe :
Khoho, tlo re u rome. Khoho e ne e re : Kea ea. — U ea fihla
u re'ng? Khoho e ne e re : Ke ea fihla ke re: Kokolo-kolokoo,
ngoan'a lōna o erne themelele metseng ea batho. E eketsa e
re: Ke tla re : Seilatsatsi o erne themelele metseng ea batho.
Ba ne ba re : Joale ke teng !

Joale e ne e kenngoa masale a mabeli leotong, ka ho le leng
masale a mabeli. Joale he ho no ho thoe : Tsamaea. Joale
khoho e ne e titima, masale a nts'a' re qoele qoele, ants'a otlana
a re tsere tšere. E ne e fihla he. Joale ho lutsoe ka tlung,
batho ba bokane ka teng, ho nooa joala. E ne e rura he, e lula
holim'a ntlo, e re : Kokolo-kolokoo, ke tlile ho beha, Seilatsatsi
oa Mohale o erne themelele metseng ea batho. Ba re : Jo ! oee !
taba li senyehile.

Joale 'm'ae o na a ea motšeo mane, a koaholla pitseng, a fu-
mana pitsana ea hae e shoele. — Ngoan'a ka ha a sa le eo !
Joale he ho no uoa ho ngaka e neng e phekole 'm'ae hore a be
teng. Joale ho no ho bolelloa ngaka. Joale ngaka e ne e tsa-
maea, e fihla ha Ramasilo, e fumana seolo seo he.

, Joale he ea se phatsa ka sehlare, ea se phatsa, ea se phatsa ;
ea re : Tlisang nku. Joale ba tlisa nku. Ea re : E hlabeng.
Joale ba e hlaba ; ba e bua, ba e bua, ba e bua he. Joale ea
re : Tlisang he, le 'nee letlalo. Ba mo nea letlalo. Joale he a
thaleha letlalo, a le bea ka holim'a seoloana seo. Joale a ea

2 The folklore of all nations speaks of objects which, by their appearance,
are a sign as to whether a man is in danger or is dead. Sekholomi plants his
spear in the ground, if it falls his servants will know that he is dead, if it does
not fall it is a sign that he is still living (Nos. XXXI and XXXII and Theal, op.
cit. p. 77). Nyopakatala (JACOTTET, Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p. 112) knows that
her daughter Sojane is dead because her plates get broken and her blankets
torn. Djiwao in a Ronga tale (JUNOD op. cit. p. 278) and Sudik'a-Mbambi in
Angola folklore (CHATELAIN, op, cit. pp. 85 and 91) have planted trees which, if
they wither and dry up, are a sign that the planter is dead. In a Bondei story
(WOODWARD op. cit. p. 32) a pumpkin in withering shows that Nyange is in danger
of death.

190 FOLK-TALES

skin and put it over that antheap.1 He then took his medicine
horns and put them before the antheap. He sat down before
it. A moment passed, a moment passed, then the skin began to
move. Now Seilatsatsi appeared again. He told her : Go back
into the hut. She went into the hut. She was shining again,
just as she was shining previously. It was she again, she
herself.

Then the doctor came into the hut, and called the father and
mother. He scarified her, he scarified her, he scarified her.
He said : Take a pitcher, Seilatsatsi, and go to the fountain.
But her husband refused, and blocked the doorway, crying,
and saying : My wife must not go out. The doctor said : No !
go away from the door, let her go out. He refused with all
his might. Then the doctor took hold of Masilo. Seilatsatsi
took a pitcher and went out into the daylight ; it was she
herself, Seilatsatsi. She came back with the water.
It is the end of the tale.

XXVIII

THE CHILD WITH A MOON ON HIS BREAST. 2

It is said that there was a great chief called Bulane. He had
two wives. One of them had no children, but the other had.
That chief had a moon on his breast. One of the wives was
greatly loved by Bulane ; she was the one who had children.
She used to torment the one who had no children.

After a while, the childless one became pregnant. The months
went by, and the time arrived when she was confined. Now
the wife who had children came to help her. The woman gave
birth to a child who had a moon on his breast. The woman

1 Masilo (No. XL) is rescued from his metamorphosis in a similar way.

2 The story of Khoeli-Sefubeng (lit. the moon on the breast, i. e. a child with
the image of a full moon on his breast) stands alone in Bantu folklore, at least
as far as my knowledge goes. The nearest parallel is a story from the Gold
Coast (HAERTTER, Aus der Volkslitteratur der Evheer in Togo, in Zeitschrift fiir afr.
und ocean. Sprachen, VI, p. 217) which is very similar. A king called Miga had
many wives, one of whom was bitterly hated by all the others. None had child-
ren. A witch doctor gives them a certain food to eat ; all conceive, but only

The child with a moon on his breast 191

nka linaka tsa hae, a li bea pel'a seolo sena. Joale he o na a
lula pel'a sona. Joale ho no ho e-ba motsotsoana, ho no ho
e-ba motsotsoana ; joale letlalo lena lea sisinyeha. Joale e se
e boetse e le Seilatsatsi. O na a re : Boela ka tlung. O na a
kena ka tlung. A boela a benya joale ka ha a na a benya pele.
Joale ke eena ka sebele.

Joale ngaka e ne e kena he, e bitsa ntat'ae le 'm'ae ; e mo
phatsa, e mo phatsa, e mo phatsa, e re : Nka lefisoana, Seilatsa-
tsi, u ee selibeng. Joale monna o na a hana, a ea thiba monya-
ko, a 11a, a re : Mosali oa ka a se ke a ba a tsoa. Joale ngaka
e ne e re : Che, tloha monyako, a tsoe. O na a hana ka matla.
Joale ngaka e ne e mo tšoara Masilo. Seilatsatsi a nka lefisoa-
na, a tsoa motseare, a ea selibeng, e ntse e le eena Seilatsatsi.
A tla le metsi ana.

Joale ke tšōmo ka mathetha.

XXVIII
NGOANA EA KHOELI SEFUBENG

Ho thoe e ne e le morena e moholo, Bulane. O na a na le
basali ba babeli. Joale e mong o na a se na bana ; joale e
mong o na a e-na le bana. Morena enoa o na a le khoeli sefu-
beng. Joale mosali e mong o na a ratoa haholo ke Bulane ; ke
eena ea neng a na le bana. Joale o na a hlorisa haholo mosali
a se nang bana.

Joale ha isa-isa mosali a se nang bana a emola. Joale ha
isa-isa likhoeli, ha ba ha fihla nako eo a itšihlollang ka eona.
Joale eaba mosali a nang le bana o tla mo thusa. Joale mosali
enoa a beleha ngoana a nang le khoeli sefubeng. Joale 'mele-

to give birth to animals. The poor neglected wife, however, gives birth to a
fine boy. The other wives substitute a cat for him, and throw him into the bush.
A poor woman finds him and adopts him. The boy looks exactly like his fa-
ther, and has, like him, a peculiar sign on the forehead. The servants of the
king see the boy and hear him singing a complaint in which he tells of his birth.
The king is apprised cf it and sends for the boy. His mother recognizes him,
and the king is overjoyed at finding him.

192 FOLK-TALES

who acted as midwife took the child, and threw him away
under the pots in the back part of the hut. A mouse took him
quickly, and went with him into its hole. His mother had fainted
during that time. The other woman went out quickly; she
found a little dog, and hastened to bring it to the child's mother.
She raised her, and said : Wake up, and see, you have given
birth to a dog. That childless woman was very sorry when she
saw that she had given birth to a dog.1

The other woman hastened to go out, and said to Bulane :
Your wife has given birth to a clog. Bulane was very sorry.
Then Bulane said : Take that dog and throw it away. They
took it and threw it away. The poor wife went out of her hut
in bitter sorrow.

Some time afterwards, Bulane's wife went into the hut of that
woman ; she found that the mouse had come out of its hole with
the child who had a moon on his breast, and was playing with
him. She was very frightened, and said : I thought that that
child was dead. She went out quickly and said to her husband,
Bulane : You may see, chief, that I am very ill ; but the divining
bones2 say that I shall be cured if you burn the hnt of your
wife, the one who has given birth to a dog. Because he loved
her much, Bulane answered his head wife : It must be burned.
The woman thought that if the hut was burned, the child would
die by fire as well as the mouse; so that she might no more see
that child who had a moon on his breast, she wanted to destroy
him.

But the mouse heard the secret conversation of the chief with
his head wife ; it hastened to leave the hut quickly ; it took the
child with the moon on his breast and went with him into the
hole under the wall of the kraal. Next morning the chief went
out and burned that hut. The head wife thought that she had
destroyed the child and the mouse, and that she would see them
no more.

Some time afterwards, as the queen was going to take fresh
dung in the kraal, she found the child with the moon on his
breast sitting under a cow. She was frightened, and said:
What shall I do to kill him ? Now, when she went out of the
kraal she was groaning much, saying that she was very ill. The
chief asked her : What is your complaint ? What must I do so
that you may get well ? She said : The divining bones say that
you must pull down your cattle kraal; I shall then get well.

I In another version the chief has ten wives. All of them give birth to
children at the same time, but these have only the sign of a crescent moon or a
star on their breast. They are jealous of the one who has given birth to a child

The child with a moon on his breast 1 93

hisi enoa a mo nka, a mo lahlela ka mor'a lipitsa ka mohaoloa-
neng. Joale toeba ea phakisa ea mo kuka, ea kena le eena
mokoting. Joale 'm'ae o na a ile le maili-ilia. Joale mosali
enoa a phakisa a tsoa kapele. Eaba o fumana ntjanyana ka
serobeng; eaba o e tlisa kapele pel'a 'm'a ngoana. Joale eaba
oa mo sisinya : Tsoha, u bone, u belehile ntja. Eaba mosali
enoa ea se nang ngoana o soaba ha a fumana hobane o bele-
hile ntja.

Eaba mosali enoa o phakisa a tsoa, a ea ho Bulane, a re :
Mosali oa hao o belehile ntja. Eaba Bulane o soaba haholo.
Eaba Bulane o re : Ea e nka, u lahle ntja eo. Eaba ba e nka,
ba e labia. Eaba mosali oa bathonyana o tsoa ka tlung ea hae
a soabile.

Ha isa-isa tsiunyana, mosali oa Bulane o na a e-tla ka tlung
ea mosali eo ; joale a fumana toeba e ntsitse ngoana ea khoeli
sefubeng, e ntse e mo bapalisa. Joale a tšoha haholo, a re :
Ke ne he re ekaba ngoana eloa o shoele. Joale a phakisa a
tsoa ; eaba o re ho monna oa hae, ho Bulane : U ka bona, mo-
rena, ke bohloko haholo; empa litaola li re, ekare ke tla fola
ua chesa ntlo ea mosali oa hao, ke enoa ea tsoa beleha ntja.
Joale Bulane a arabela mofumahali oa hae, a re : E ka khona
e chesoe ; ka hobaneo na a mo rata haholo. Joale mosali enoa
o na a hopola hore ha ntlo. e ka chesoa, ngoana o tla shoa, le
toeba e che ke mollo, a se hlole a bona ngoana enoa ea khoeli
sefubeng, hobane o na a rata ho mo timetsa.

Eaba toeba e utloa lekunutu la mosali oa mofumahali le rao-
rena, ea phakisa ea tsoa kapele tlung, ea nka ngoana ea khoeli
sefubeng, ea kena le eena kotopong ea lesaka. Joale morena a
tsoa hosasane, a chesa ntlo eo. Joale mofumahali a kholoa
hoba kajeko o timelitse ngoana le toeba hammoho, ha a sa tla
hlola a ba bona.

Ha isa tšiuana li se kae, mofumahali o na a ea nka bolokoe
ka sakeng, a fumana ngoana ea khoeli sefubeng a le ka tlase
ho khomo. Eaba oa tšoha, a re : Ke tla etsa joang na, hore ke
tie ke 'molaee ? Eaba, ha a e-tsoa ka sakeng, o s'a bobola haho-
lo, ka ho re o bohloko haholo. Joale morena oa 'motsa hore :
U bohloko ke'ng ? Na ha u tla fola, e ka khona ke etse joang
na ? Joale a re : Litaola li itse, e ka khona u qhaqholle lesaka
lena kaofela la hao la likhomo ; ke hona ke tla fola.

with a full moon on his breast, and substitute a dog for the child.
2 The litaola or divining bones are of every day use in native life.

194 FOLK-TALES

Again the mouse heard the secret conversation of the chief
and his queen. It went out, took the child, and brought him to
the hut of some traders. So when the kraal was pulled down,
the child with the moon on his breast was no more there.

This time the mouse left him, and went back to its home.
Now on a certain day, some people came to barter. A man of
Bulane's village came to buy some goods. He found there a
young man who had a shining moon on his breast. He went
back home, that man. He told Bulane about that handsome
young man he had seen who had a moon on his breast. Bulane
went out quickly to see him. He arrived and asked the young
man : Whose child are you ? How did you come here ?

Now the young man with a moon on his breast began to
explain all to him. He said : My mother had given birth to me,
but the wife of my father threw me away in the back part of the
hut ; a mouse took me, went with me into its hole, and took care
of me. Now my father's wife took a dog and said that my
mother had given birth to a dog. Bulane began to look at him
closely, and began to remember that his wife had said that
another of his wives had given birth to a dog. And then the
child with the moon on his breast told him how he had been
brought into the cattle kraal, and how the mouse had saved him in
bringing him to the trader's hut.

Now the father laid bare his breast to see if he really was the
child with a moon on the breast. Bulane found that it was indeed
the child with a moon on the breast. So he took him and went
home with him. He hid him in his hut. He convoked a big
meeting ; he called together all his people. Oxen were slaughter-
ed ; a big quantity of beer was brewed. He ordered the mats
to be spread on the ground before the hut where he had hid the
child with the moon on the breast.

Then he took him out of the hut and brought him before that
big meeting. He explained to the people the wrong his wife
had done him. And now the mother of the child with a moon
on the breast had her rags taken from her, and was dressed in
fine clothes. The child with a moon on the breast was appoint-
ed chief by his father. As for the woman who had children
who had no moon on their breasts, she was sent away ; they
said she was a criminal. Her belongings were given back to
her, they told her to go away, to go back to her father.
This is the end of the tale.

The child with a moon on his breast 1 95

Toeba ea boela ea utloa lekunutu la mosali oa mofumahali le
morena. Eaba ea tsoa, ea mo nka, ea mo isa tlung ea bahoebi.
Joale ha ho qhaqholloa lesaka, o na a le sieo ngoana ea khoeli
sefubeng.

Joale toeba ea tlohelana le eena, ea khutlela ha habo eona.
Joale ka tsatsi le leng batho ba bang ba ea bapatsa. Joale
e mong motho oa motse oa Bulane a ea reka teng. Joale a
fumana mohlankana enoa o na a na le ntho e 'ngoe ekhanyang
sefubeng ho eena. Joale a ea, a khutlela hae monna eo. Joale
a tsebisa Bulane mohlankana eo a 'moneng e motle haholo a
e-na le khoeli sefubeng. Joale Bulane a tloha kapele ho ea
'mona. Joale a fihla teng, a botsa mohlankana hore : U ngoa-
n'a mang ? u tlile joang mona ?

Joale mohlanana ea khoeli sefubeng a qala ho mo hlalosetsa,
a re : 'Mè o na a mpeleha, eaba mosali oa ntate o ntahlela ka
mohaoloaneng ; eaba toeba ea nkamohela, ea kena le 'na mo-
koting, ea 'na ea mphelisa teng. Joale mosali oa ntate a nka
ntja, a re 'mè o belehile ntja. Bulane a qala ho mo qamakisisa,
a qala ho hopola hore mosali oa hae o na a re mosali e mong o
belehile ntja. Joale ngoana ea khoeli sefubeng a mo phetela
kamoo a neng a ile lesakeng la likhomo kateng, ho fihlela toe-
ba e 'malehisa, e mo isa tlung ea bahoebi.

Eaba ntat'a hae o mo phetla sefuba, hore a bone hore na ke
ngoana ea khoeli sefubeng. Joale Bulane a fumana hobane ke
ngoana ea khoeli sefubeng. Joale a mo nka, a ea le eena hae.
Eaba o mo pata ka tlung ea hae. Eaba o etsa pitso e khoto,
a bitsa batho ba hae kaofela. Ha hlajoa likhomo, ha ratholoa
majoala a mangata. Joale a re, ba ale meseme fatše moo a
patileng ngoana ea khoeli sefubeng.

Eaba o qala ho mo ntša, a mo tlisa pitsong ena e kholo. Joale a
'montša batho le kamoo mosali oa hae a mo etselitseng ka bo-
lotsana bo boholo. Eaba 'm'a ngoana ea khoeli sefubeng o
hlobolisoa likatana tsa hae, a apesoa likobo tse ntle. Eaba
ngoana ea khoeli sefubeng o beoa morena ke ntat'ae. Ha e le
mosali enoa a nang le bana ba se nang khoeli sefubeng a lele-
kisoa, ha thoe ke molotsana. A phahleloa thepa ea hae, ha
thoe a tsamaee, a ee ha habo.

Ke ho fela ha tšomo.

196 FOLK-TALES

XXIX
NKOLOBE :

There was a boy who was sent by his mother to get some
medicine from his maternal uncle. He went there. His mater-
nal uncle gave it to him. On his way he ate it. Now he became
pregnant, that boy. He arrived at his mother's and said : There
was no medicine. So he went on living so, being pregnant, till
one day he said to his young brother who was herding with
him : I go to the mountain ; I go to examine my traps with
which I am catching birds. And now he was delivered of his
child. After he had given birth to him, he clothed him, and
laid him down in a cave. Then he went home.

In the morning he took his pails and went to milk; he kept
some milk in a horn with which to feed his child in the mount-
ain. After he had finished milking, he took out the cattle and
went to the veldt. He left his young brother, saying : Stay here,
I am going to the mountain to examine my traps. So he went
and arrived at the mountain. He began to speak, and spoke

so :2

Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,

It is as if you had not been born with human beings, Nkolobe,
As if you had been born as the little gnus on the veldt, Nkolobe,
As if you had appeared just as the grass does grow, Nkolobe.
Now the child cried : Ngoe ! ngoe ! — Swell, my breast, that I

may suckle Nkolobe. His breast swelled ; he suckled Nkolobe.

He shut him again in the cave. At evening he went home. He

arrived home and slept.

In the morning, he went again to the kraal to milk. He again

kept some milk in a horn. He took the cattle out to go to the

veldt. He said again to the little boy : Stay, I am going to

examine my traps on the mountain. He arrives at the mountain,

and says :

1 This story shows how great the faith of the natives is in the power of med-
icines. That the boy Nkolobe can conceive and give birth to a child because
he has taken medicine meant for his mother, does not appear to them as really
impossible. Years ago a story of the same kind was told me as a fact that had
lately happened.

2 There is a variant of the song, in which the boy is called Kakatsitsi, instead
of Nkolobe. It reads :

Nkolobe 197

XXIX
NKOLOBE

E ne e le moshanyana, a rongoa ke 'm'ae, a ee ho kōpa sehlare
ho malom'ae. Eaba oa ea. Joale eaba malom'ae oa mo fa ; eitse
tseleng a se ja. Joale eaba o khora mpa, moshanyana eo. A
fihla ho 'm'ae, a re : Ha se eo. Joale he eaba o phela joalo ka
mpa eo ea hae, ho fihlela a re ho moshanyana oabo ea neng a
lisa le eena : Ke ea thabeng, ke ea bona lifi tsa ka tseo ke che-
hileng linonyana ka tsona. Joale oa beleha ngoana eo. Joale
he hoba a belehe ngoana, a mo phuthela, eaba o mo robatsa ka
lehaheng. Eaba oa oroha, a ea hae.

Hosasa a nke likhamelo ; a ea hama, a ipolokela lebese ka
lenakana, lee a ea fepa ngoan'a hae thabeng. Ha a qetile ho
hama, a ntše likhomo ho ea naheng. Joale a siee moshanyana
eo, a re : Sala mona, ke ea thabeng ho bona lifi tsa ka. Joale
he a ee he, a fihle teng thabeng. Joale a bue, a bue, a re :

Lla, 11a, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Eka uena ha ua tsoaloa le motho, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse le lipulungoana naheng, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse joale ka joang ha bo mela, Nkolobe.
Joale ngoana a re : Ngoe, ngoe ! — Letsoele khehleha, ke
anyese Nkolobe. Joale he le khehlehe, a anyese Nkolobe. A mo
koalle hape lehaheng. Mantsiboea a oroha, a ea hae. Joale he
a fihle hae, a robale.

Hosasane o ea sakeng hape ho ea hama. O boetse hape a
ipolokela lebese ka lenakana. O ntša likhomo ho ea naheng.
O bolella moshanyana hape : Sala, ke ea bona lifi tsa ka tha-
beng. O ea fihla thabeng, o re :

Child of my mother, Kakatsitsi, Leboloa-boloane la 'mè, Kakatsitsi,

Let him cry that we hear him, Kaka- A le ke le lie re utloe, Kakatsitsi,

[tsitsi,
Some have gone to the pastures, Ka- Bang ba He maliso, Kakatsitsi,

[katsitsi,
Some have gone to the gardens, Ka- Bang ba He masimong, Kakatsitsi.

[katsitsi.

198 FOLK-TALES

Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,

It is as if you had not been born with human beings, Nkolobe,
As if you had been born as the little gnus on the veldt, Nkolobe,
As if you had appeared just as the grass does grow, Nkolobe.
The child cried : Ngoe ! ngoe ! — Swell, my breast, that I may

suckle Nkolobe. It swelled ; he suckled Nkolobe. Then at

evening he went home. Then he slept.

Next morning he milks, keeps some milk in a horn, and goes

again to the mountain. The other boy was astonished. — Every

day you say you are going to examine your traps. Now this

time the other boy went round the mountain by another way ;

he arrived and hid himself. He heard when his elder brother

sang to the child, he heard him saying :
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,

It is as if you had not been born with human beings, Nkolobe,
As if you had been born as the little gnus on the veldt, Nkolobe,
As if you had appeared just as the grass does grow, Nkolobe.

The little boy heard that song. He saw his brother take the
child and suckle it. He said : Why ! so he has a child; so this is
the traps he keeps on saying that he is going to examine. He
went down and went back to his cattle. He sat down before them.
Now his brother came, coming down from the mountain. When
he arrived the little boy said to him : I have a headache. The
elder brother said: You may go, my dear. The little boy went home.
He said to his mother: Mother, my brother has a child. The
mother said : A child ? what ? He said : He has a little boy child
in the mountain. Now the mother remembered and said : It
was from the medicine I sent him to fetch from his maternal
uncle's. Then the mother said : Will you not show him to me ?
He answered: Yes, mother; I shall show him to you. At night
they went with his father. They arrived at the cave ; the boy sang :
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,

It is as if you had not been born with human beings, Nkolobe,
As if you had been born as the little gnus on the veldt, Nkolobe,
As if you had appeared just as the grass does grow, Nkolobe.

The child said: Ngoe! ngoe! Now the mother took him and
suckled him. They shut the cave again, and went home with
the child. The mother of the child (that is the boy) arose, still
joyful, milked the cows, and kept some milk in a horn, as
always. He took out the cattle and went to the veldt. This
time the little boy stayed at home, did not go with him. The
elder' boy went up the mountain ; he arrived and said :
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,
Cry, cry, let us hear you, Nkolobe,

It is as if you had not been born with human beings, Nkolobe,
As if you had been born as the little gnus on the veldt, Nkolobe,
As if you had appeared just as the grass does grow, Nkolobe.

Nkolobe I9Q

Lla, 11a, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Eka uena ha ua tsoaloa le motho, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse le lipulungoana naheng, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse joale ka joang ha bo mela, Nkolobe.
Joale he ngoana a re : Ngoe, ngoe ! — Letsoele, khehleha, ke
anyese Nkolobe. Joale he le khehlehe, a anyese Nkolobe. Joale
mantsiboea a orohe, a ee hae. Joale he a robale.

Hosasane oa hama, o ipolokela lebese hape ka lenakana, o
ea thabeng joale hape. Moshanyana a makala : Uena ka mehla
eohle u hlola u re u ea bona lifi tsa hao ! Joale he ke ha mosha-
nyana a pota thaba ka 'nga e 'ngoe le eena ; a fihla, a ipata
moshanyana. Joale he a fihla, a mamela ha ho bineloa ngoa-
na ; a mamela ha ho thoe :

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.
. Eka uena ha ua tsoaloa le motho, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse le lipulungoana naheng, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse joale ka joang ha bo mela, Nkolobe.

Eaba moshanyana pina eo oa e utloa. Eaba o bona ho nkuoa
ngoana, a anyesoa. A re : Bee ! kanthe o na le ngoana ; ke tso-
na lifi tsa hae tsee a hlolang a re o tla li bona, ngoana eo. Eaba
he oa theoha moshanyana, a ea likhomong. Joale a lula pel'a
likhomo. Joale a tla ngoan'abo, a theoha thabeng. Eaba, ha
a fihla, moshanyana o re ho moholoane oa hae, a re : Ke jeoa
ke hloho. Eo a re : E-ea hae, 'nake. Eaba moshanyana oa ea.

A bolella 'm'ae, a re : 'Mè, ngoan'eso o na le ngoana. Eaba
'm'ae o re : Ngoana ! joang ? A re : O na le ngoana oa mosha-
nyana thabeng. Joale 'm'ae a lemoha, a re : Ke sehlare see ke
mo romileng sona ha malom'ae. Joale 'm'ae a re : Na u ka
mpontša eena ? Eaba o re : E, 'mè ; nka ea u bontsa eena. Eaba
ba ea bosin le ntat'ae ; ba fihla lehaheng, moshanyana a bina :

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Eka uena ha ua tsoaloa le motho, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse le lipulungoana naheng, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse joale ka joang ha bo mela, Nkolobe.
Eaba oa lla, a re : Ngoe, ngoe ! Eaba 'm'ae oa mo nka, a mo
anyesa. Ba boela ba koalla lehaha, ba ea le eena hae. 'M'ae
a ngoana a tsoha a nts'a thabile, a hama, a 'na a boloka lebese
joale ka mehla ka lenakana. Joale a ntsa likhomo, a ea naheng.
Mohlang oo, moshanyana a sala hae, a se ke a ea le eena. Eaba
o nyolohela thabeng ; a fihla, a re :

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Lla, lla, re utloe, Nkolobe.

Eka uena ha ua tsoaloa le motho, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse le lipulungoana naheng, Nkolobe.

U itlhahetse joale ka joang ha bo mela, Nkolobe.

200 FOLK-TALES

He did not hear anything. He went into the cave and
found the child gone. He wept, he wept the whole day. At
evening he arrived home ; but he was no more joyful as
usual. He sat down in the smoke weeping. His mother asked
him: Why do you weep, my child? He said: I do not weep;
the smoke troubles me. His mother said: Go out of the
smoke; why do you stay in the smoke? He went away, crept
into the hut, still sorrowful ; he slept.

Next morning he went with his cattle to the veldt, still
sorrowful. In the evening he came back home, still sorrow-
ful. Now his mother asked him : Why are you still crying ?
Do you cry on account of your child ? He avowed it, and
said : Yes. Then his mother called him, to bring him into
the hut ; she pointed out his child to him, saying : This is
your child ? What are you doing with a child, since you are
a man ? Now his mother asked him : How did you get that
child ? He said : It came from the medicine which you sent me
to fetch from my maternal uncle's. I ate it on the way, when
I was coming back.

This is the end of the tale.

XXX
THE NANABOLELES1

Masilo had been circumcised by his father, he was circumcis-
ed with many other boys. There were ten circumcision huts
in the country. Now in the spring when they were to come out
and return home, he refused to leave the circumcision but, 2
saying he wanted a shield of nanabolele's skin (it is said that
the nanaboleles were animals living under the ground). His

I There is much similarity between this tale and the first part of the story of
The nyamatsahes (No. I). The first part of the story of Semumu and Scmnmu-
nyane (Revue ties Trad. pop. 1888) is a version of it. The nanaboleles are fabulous
animals ; a little further on it is said that when sleeping they give light out of
their bodies. In the Kaffir story of Sikulume (THEAL, op. cit. p. 79) we hear of

The Nanabolcles 201

A se ke a utloa letho. A ea lehaheng, a fumana ngoana a le
sieo. A 11a, a 11a tsatsi lohle. A fihla hae mantsiboea, thabo e
le sieo ea mehla. A lula mosing a nts'a 11a. 'M'ae a 'motsa :
U llela'ng, ngoan'a ka ? A re : Ha ke lie, ke jeoa ke mosi. Eaba
'm'ae o re ho eena : Tloha mosing ; u lulela'ng mosing ? Eaba
oa tloha, a khasetsa tlung a soabile, a robala.

Hosasane a ea naheng le likhomo a soabile. Mantsiboea a
khutlela hae a soabile. Eaba 'm'ae oa 'motsa : Na u ntse u 11a,
u llela'ng ? Na u llela ngoan'a hao ? A lnmela, a re : E. Joale
'm'ae a 'mitsa ho mo isa ka thing, a 'montša eena, a re : Ngoan'a
hao ke enoa. U etsa'ng ka ngoana u le monna ? Eaba 'm'ae oa
'motsa, a re : Ngoana enoa u mo nkile kae ? A re : Ke sehlare
seo u nong u nthomile sona ha malome, ka se ja tseleng ha ke
khutla.

Ke tšomo ka mathetho.

XXX
LINANABOLELE

Masilo o na a bolotsoe ke ntat'ae, a bolla le batho ba bangata,
mephato ea e-ba leshome naheng. Joale ka selemo see ba ea
tsoa, ba tie hae, a hanella mophatong, a re o batla thebe ea
nanabolele (ho thoe ke liphoofolo li be li le ka fatše). Ntat'ae
a makala, ha a sa tsebe hobane nanabolele e lula kae. Eaba
ngoan'abo oa itlama oa mosetsana ; o sila mofaho, oa tsamaea,

a water monster called inabulele which devours people. Its name is similar to
the Se-Suto name of nanabolele.

2 The mophato is the name of the hut where the boys pass a few months after
being circumcised. It is always built at a distance from any village.

202 FOLK-TALES

father wondered what to do, as he did not know where the
nanaboleles were living. But his sister bound herself to do
what Masilo wanted. She ground meal for the road, went away
into an unknown country. She went on, continually asking the
lakes, saying :

Nanabolele. nanabolele,

My brother Masilo refuses to go out of the circumcision hut, nanabolele,

He says he wants a shield of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And shoes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And clothes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And a hat he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And spearsi he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele.

A frog answered : Kuruu ! go on to where water is drawn
with leshoma.2

She passed on and arrived at another lake ; she said :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

My brother Masilo refuses to go out of the circumcision hut, nanabolele,

He says he wants a shield of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And shoes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And clothes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And a hat he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And spears he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele.

A frog said : Kuruu ! go on to where water is drawn with
leshoma.

She passed on, she went, she went, she went, she went, she
went on all the night. She arrived at another lake :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

My brother Masilo refuses to go out of the circumcision hut, nanabolele,

He says he wants a shield of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And shoes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And clothes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And a hat he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And spears he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele.

A frog said : Kuruu ! go on to where water is drawn with
leshoma. .

There she is yonder, yonder, yonder ... ! She went far away,
and arrived at a big lake (as far as Qeme yonder and Sefikeng
and here, it was but one big lake), she arrived and stood up.
She was alone, she had nobody with her, she was bound on her
brother's business. She arrived, stood and said :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

My brother Masilo refuses to go out of the circumcision hut, nanabolele,

He says he wants a shield of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And shoes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And clothes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And a hat he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And spears he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele.

I A spear of nanabolele means a spear whose head is fastened to the shaft
by leathei cut from a nanabolele's skin. The Ba-Suto shoes, rarely used, are
not much better than sandals.

The Nanaboleles 203

•o itahla har'a naha. O tsamaea, a nts'a botsa matša, a re :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

Masilo oeso o hanetse mophatong, nanabolele,
O re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le lieta o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le likobo o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le katiba o batla ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le marumo o batla a nanabolele, nanabolele.
Eaba nketjoane e re : Kuruu ! fetela pele moo metsi a khu-
oang ka leshoma.

A feta, a kèna ho le leng letša, a re :
Nanabolele, nanabolele,

Masilo oeso o hanetse mophatong, nanabolele,
O re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le lieta o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le likobo o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le katiba o batla ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le marumo o batla a nanabolele, nanabolele.
Nketjoane ea re : Kuruu ! fetela pele moo motsi a khuoang
ka leshoma.

A feta, a ea, a ea, a ea, a ea, a ea le bosiu. A kena ka le
leng letša :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

Masilo oeso o hanetse mophatong, nanabolele,
O re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le lieta o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le likobo o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le katiba o batla ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le marumo o batla a nanabolele, nanabolele.
Nketjoane ea re : Kuruu ! fetela pele moo metsi a khuoang
ka leshoma.

Ke e — e — e — eloa ! A ea fihla hole, a fihlela letsa le leholo
(le Qeme mane, le Sefikeug, le hona moo, ke boliba feela), a
fihla, a ema. O inotši ; ha a na le among, o itlametse ngoana
oabo. A fihla, a ema, a re :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

Masilo oeso o hanetse mophatong, nanabolele,
O re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le lieta o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le likobo o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le katiba o batla ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le marumo o batla a nanabolele, nanabolele.

2 The leshoma is a bulbous plant with large leaves spread out fern-like, and
with a red flower. The bulb is very large. It is perhaps meant that water must
be drawn with a cup made out of this bulb, an impossible thing in fact.

204 FOLK-TALES

The lake was silent, it kept quiet, it did not answer at all. She
cried :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

My brother Masilo refuses to go out of the circumcision hut, nanabolele,

He says he wants a shield of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And shoes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And clothes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And a hat he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And spears he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,
The lake remained silent, it kept quiet, it did not answer at
all. She began again :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

My brother Masilo refuses to go out of the circumcision hut, nanabolele,

He says he wants a shield of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And shoes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And clothes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And a hat he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And spears he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

The lake began to be agitated, it moved to and fro; the water
moved towards her, it was agitated, then it was quiet again.
She said again :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

My brother Masilo refuses to go out of the circumcision hut, nanabolele,

He says he wants a shield of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And shoes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And clothes he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And a hat he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,

And spears he wants of nanabolele, nanabolele,
An old woman came out of the lake and asked her, saying:
Thakane, what do you want ? — I have come to get a shield of
nanabolele; my brother refuses to leave the circumcision hut,
he says he wants a shield of nanabolele, and shoes he wants of
nanabolele, and clothes he wants of nanabolele, and a hat he
wants of nanabolele. The old woman said: Aoh ! where will
you get those things? The nanaboleles eat people; you are in-
deed quite lost, daughter of Ramasilo. Will you come into this
big lake ? She wondered. The woman said : Let us go. She
was afraid. The woman said : Well, let us go. She held her
by the hand.

They went on easily as if there was no water.1 They went
under the lake and found there were large villages, there were
big nations but there were no more any inhabitants, there only
remained the reed enclosures and the huts they had built; as
for the people they had been eaten by the nanaboleles. The
woman said : You see the country in which I live ? She added :
The nations have been destroyed; the nanaboleles eat the

I The nanaboleles live in a country under the water. The notion of people
living there is very common in Bantu tales (see notes to Mosimoli, No. XXIV).

The Nanaboleles 205

Letša la khutsa, la re tu, le se ke la ba la bua. A 11a :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

Masilo oeso o hanetse mophatong, nanabolele,
O re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le lieta o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le likobo o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le katiba o batla ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le marumo o batla a nanabolele, nanabolele.
Letša le khutse, le re tu, le se ke la sisinyeha. A boela hape :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

Masilo oeso o hanetse mophatong, nanabolele,
O re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le lieta o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le likobo o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le katiba o batla ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le marumo o batla a nanabolele, nanabolele.
Letša la sisinyeha, la re eke, eke, eke ; metsi a sisinyehela
ho eena, a qapeha, a khutsa. A re hape :

Nanabolele, nanabolele,

Masilo oeso o hanetse mophatong, nanabolele,
O re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le lieta o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le likobo o batla tsa nanabolele, nanabolele
Le katiba o batla ea nanabolele, nanabolele,
Le marumo o batla a nanabolele, nanabolele,
Setsoa'tsana sa tsoa letšeng, sa 'motsa, se re: Thakane, u
batla'ng ? — Ke tlile ho batla thebe ea nanabolele; ngoan'eso
o hanetse mophatong, o re o batla thebe ea nanabolele, le lieta
o batla tsa nanabolele, le likobo o batla tsa nanabole, le katiba
o batla ea nanabolele. Setsoatsana sa re: Khele! u tla li bona
kae ? Nanabolele li ja batho ; u lahlehile hakakang, ngoan'a
Ramasilo. U tla kena moo bolibeng bo kale ? A makala. A re :
Ha re tsamaee. A tsaba. A re : Che, ha re tsamaee. Eaba o
mo tšoara ka letsoho.

Ba itsamaela feela ho se metsi. Eaba ba ea kena ; ba fihlela
metse ka har'a letša, lichaba li le kholo, li mpa li se na batho,
li hahile liotloana feela le matlo, batho ba jeloe ke linanabo-
lele. A re: Ua bona lefatše lee ke leng teng? Eaba o re: Li-
chaba li felile ; nanabolele li ja batho. A theba lefatše, a le
theba, a le theba, a le theba, a le theba, a le theba, a le theba, a le
theba. Eaba o mo kenya ka teng, sekoting. A mo fepa ; a ja, a ja, a

206 FOLK-TALES

people. She dug in the earth, she dug, she dug, she dug, she
dug, she dug, she dug, she dug in it. Then she put the maiden
into it, into that hole. She gave her food, she ate, she ate, she
ate, she ate, she ate. She put her into the hole, covered her
with a stone, and spread mats over her.

They arrived, the nanaboleles ; a boy was herding them.
When they came, they said : We smell human flesh ! That wo-
man took an old skin and slapped them with it. She kept on
saying : Where does it smell so ? Where does it smell so ? Where
does it smell so? They were saying: We smell human flesh!
We smell human flesh ! We smell human flesh ! They became
tired, they became tired, they slept. Theoldwomanremained there.
When they were asleep they gave out light. She took the
maiden out of the hole, and said: Let us go to them! They
went. — Choose the one you like. She chose a very fine one.
It was killed, they flayed it, they flayed it, they flayed it, they
flayed it, they flayed it, they flayed it, they flayed it, they took
its skin ; then they buried its flesh. The woman gave her a
smooth stone and said : Walk during all the night, do not sit
down at all, do not rest, they are going to pursue you. When
you see a cloud of dust coming, plant this stone in the ground,
climb upon it, sit on it, it will become a mountain.

She went away. In the early morning she heard the noise of
the nanaboleles coming to eat her ; they had taken her trail.
She planted the stone in the ground when she saw them near,
climbed it, and sat down on it. The stone rose up and became
a mountain, a high, a fine mountain. They arrived, dug at the
bottom of the stone, but they could not do anything. They be-
came tired, they slept. She pulled the stone out of the ground,
put it on her back, and went on.

When she was already far, they woke up and went after her.
When she looked back she saw that they were already near her.
She planted the stone on the ground and climbed on it ; the stone
rose up. They arrived, they dug ; the sun set, the night dark-
ened. They slept under that stone., giving light out of their
bodies. She pulled the stone out of the ground, and went on.
When she had gone far, the night cleared off, the sun rose. They
found that they were far away from home; they departed and
returned to their country-
She went on and arrived home. When she arrived the people
wondered. They got a man who knew how to cut clothes ; he
cut a coat, he cut a shield, he cut spears, he cut a hat, he cut
shoes ; there was enough for all that. Then the shield was sent
to the circumcision hut, with the coat, and the shoes, and the
hat, and the spears. He rejoiced, the son of the chief; he was
glad when he saw that which he did not know, about which he
had only dreamed, without knowing it. .

The Nanaboleles 207

ja, a ja, a ja. A mo kenya ka teng ho sekoti ; a mo koahela ka
lejoe, a ala liphate holim'a hae.

Tsa tla linanabolele li alosoa ke moshanyana. Eitse ha li
e-tla, tsa re: Senthu se nkha kae ? Mosali enoa a nka sekatana,
a 'na a li phutla. O nts'a re : Se be se nkha kae na ? Se be se
nkha kae na ? Se be se nkha kae na ? Li ne li re : Senthu se
nkha kae ? Senthu se nkha kae ? Senthu se nkha kae ? Tsa
khathala, tsa khathala, tsa robala. Setsoatsana sa lula.

Eitse ha li robala, tsa bonesa. A mo ntša sekoting, a re : Ha
re ee ho tsona. Ba ea. — Ikhethele eo u e ratang. A khetha
e ntle haholo, Eaba ea bolaoa ; eaba ba e bua, ba e bua, ba e
bua, ba e bua, ba e bua, ba e bua, ba e bua, ba e ntša letlalo ;
eaba ba boea ba epela nama ena. Eaba o mo nea lejoe le bore-
letsana, a re : U tsamaee le bosiu, u se ke ua ba ua lula, u se ke
uaphomola; li ea u sala morao. Etl'ere ha u bona lerōle le
e-tla, u hlome lejoe lena, u hloe holim'a lona, u lule ho lona, le
tla phahama.

Eaba oa' tsamaee. Eitse ka meso a utloa molumo oa tsona
moo li tlang, li tla mo ja, li nkile mohlala oa hae. A hloma
lejoe ha a bona hoba li haufi, a hloa ho lona, a lula holim'a
lona. Lejoe la phahama ea e-ba thaba, thabana e teletsana, e
ntle. Tsa fihla, tsa theba ka tlase ; leha ho le joalo ha lia ka
tsa fihlela letho. Joale he tsa khathala, tsa robala. A hlomola
lejoe, a le pepa, a tsamaea.

Eitse ha a se a le hole, tsa tsoha, tsa mo hopola. O itse a re
oa talima a fihlela li se li le pel'a hae. A hloma lejoe, a le hloa
holimo ; lejoe la phahama. Tsa fihla, tsa theba, tsatsi la likela,
bosiu ba phirima. Tsa robala ka tlas'a lejoe, tsa bonesa. A
le hlomola, a tsamaea. Eitse ha a se a le hole bosiu ba e-sa,
tsatsi la chaba. Tsa fihlela hobane ha habo ke hole ; tsa khu-
tla, tsa boela ha habo.

Eaba oa tsamaea, a fihla hae. Ha a fihla, ba kile ba makala;
ha bitsoa sesehi sa kobo, eaba sea e seha, se seha thebe, se seha
marumo, se seha katiba, se seha lieta, ho fellela mona. Eaba
thebe e isoa mophatong, le kobo, le lieta, le katiba, le marumo.
A thaba ngoan'a morena, a nyakalla ha a bona ntho ee a sa e
tsebeng, a e lorile feela a sa e tsebe.

208 FOLK-TALES

Next morning they prepared strong beer, the following day
they cooked meat. Masilo went out of the circumcision hut, he
took his shield and paraded it; he rejoiced, he was gladdened,
he went home. When he arrived he gave his sister a hundred
head of cattle, he rewarded her for her long journey.
It is the end of the tale.

XXXI
SELOMAKUPU

They said there was a chiefs son called Bulane. On a day
when they were sitting in the men's court, a large number of
many coloured birds arrived.2 The son of the chief saw a beauti-
ful one which pleased him exceedingly. He gave orders to his
servants, saying: If you really love me, you must kill this bird
for me that I may make a head ornament out of it.3 They stood
up, and went out of the gate of the court in a crowd.

The birds flew away and left them behind. The young men
pursued them, they went after them till they had gone very far
from their village. The birds slept in a marsh; the young men
also slept there, near the marsh where the birds were sleeping.
They rose next morning, and endeavoured to kill the bird which
the chiefs son liked. They killed many of the birds, they

I In my Contes pop. des Bassoutos (p. 262) is given, under the tittle of Sekholo-
mi, a version differing a little from this tale ; the second part of Semumu and
Semumunyane (Revue des Trad. pop. 1888) is very much like it, as also the second
half of Sekholomi and Takalasi (No. XXXII of this collection). The tale of Si-
kulume given by THEAL (op. cit. p. 74) is a Kaffir, and that of Umshalishali (Folk-
Lore Journal, II, p. 7) a Zulu version of it. Junod (Les Ba-Ronga, p. 285) makes
known to us the same tale as told near Delagoa Bay. It is thus shown to be,
like so many others, a common property of the South African Bantu. The Fang-
tale of Ngemanduma (TRILLES, op. cit. p. 248) is also to be compared for many
incidents.

In this tale the name of Sekholomi is not given, but the other versions show
well that he is meant. His name means the talker. This is rather strange, as

Selomakupu 209

Hosasane he ba khella majoala; ka moso ba apeha. A tsoa
mophatong, a nka thebe eo, a hlakisa ka eona, a thaba, a nya-
kalla, a ea hae. Joale ha a fihla a nea ngoan'abo likhomo tse
lekholo, a mo patala kamoo a tsamaileng haholo kateng.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXXI
SELOMAKUPU

Ba re e ne re e le ngoan'a morena Bulane. Ka tsatsi le leng
ba ne ba lutse khotla, ha fihla linonyana tse ngata tse mebala-
bala. Joale ngoan'a morena a bona nonyana e 'ngoe e ntle, e
mo khahlang haholo ka ho fetisa. Eaba o laela bahlanka ba
hae, o re : Ha eba lea nthata e ka khona le mpolaele nonyana
eo, ke tie ke etse sekola. Eaba ba ema, ba tsoa monyako oa
lekhotla ba patisane.

Joale nonyana tsa baleha, tsa ba siea ; ba 'na ba 11 phallela,
ba li sala morao, ba ba ba fihla hole le motse oa habo. Eaba li-
nonyana li robala mohlakeng, le bona ba robala teng mohla-
keng oc linonyana li robetseng ho oona. Hosasane ba tsoha e
le hosasa ba ntse ba pheheletse nonyana e ratoang ke ngoan'a
morena. Ba bolaea tse ngata, ba li tlisa ho eena, empa morena

in one of the Ba-Suto versions (cf. my Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p. 262) which
has, undoubtedly, kept here a more original form, as also in one of the Kaffir
tales and in the Ronga version, the boy is mute and only begins to talk when
hunting the birds. Another proof that in the original tradition he was consid-
ered mute is that in one of the Ba-Suto versions he is named Semumu, the mute,
though strange to say, in that very version he is not said to be mute.

2 The same feature is found in all versions, with the exception of No. XXXII
and the tale of Semumu and Semumunyane.

3 The seko.a is a kind of cockade which Ba-Suto men wear on the head,
either when at war or at dances. It is made of feathers, or porcupine quills, or
jackal skins.

2io FOLK-TALES

brought them to him, but the chief said : No, you have not yet
killed the one I like so much.

They went on their way again, pursuing the birds ; the birds
led them again very, very far. They arrived at a big marsh ;
they slept there again. Next morning they again killed many
birds, but they did not kill the one which the chief's son liked.
They went further on again with the birds they were pursuing.

The third day the birds led them to a very, very large marsh,
near to which was a very large hut.1 The birds arrived and
stayed in the marsh. The young men killed many of them, but
they did not kill the one which the chiefs son liked. They slept
again, they slept in that hut. Inside the hut they found eggs of
all kinds of birds, some cooked, some raw. They also found
beans put into pots, some were cooked and some were raw.
They said : Men, let us eat as we are so hungry. They ate the
cooked food ; they slept.

In the middle of the night the mistress of the house arrived.
She said : I smell human flesh ! She found them asleep, but as
for the chiefs son he was awake, not yet asleep. He withdrew
a blanket from his eye a little, to see that dreadful object, Selo-
makupu. He saw that she had one frightfully long tooth, and
one long nail as sharp as a knife, with which she ripped open
the animals. Then he covered his head again.

Selomakupu2 came with lizards and crabs, and fried them in
a big potsherd. Selomakupu then ate them ; she kindled a
light and said : I shall eat this one, next day I shall eat this one,
next day I shall eat this one ..., as for this one I shall eat him
last, when there is a long rain.3 The boys were all asleep, and did
not hear anything, excepting the chiefs son who alone was
awake. Then Selomakupu, being tired, slept. She rose in the
early morning, and went to hunt for food.

The young men woke up ; the chief told them how he had
seen that dreadful being, Selomakupu, with one long tooth and
one long nail. They arose and killed many birds. This day
they also killed the one which the chiefs son liked. They sat
down and made head ornaments; the sun set when they were
still there.

Now the chiefs son said : Oh ! men, where shall we sleep ?
To-day this horrid hag with the long tooth will eat us. They
said : Well, son of a chief, we shall tie ourselves to one another
at our legs, all of us, with a grass rope when we go to sleep ; he

1 In the Ronga version it is Sikulume himself who builds the hut by his mag-
ical power. The incident of the birds' eg^s is only found here.

2 Selomakupu or Kupu is probably a cannibal (in Scmumu it is a fabulous bird)

Selomakupu 211

a re : Che, ha le e-so ho bolaee ee ke e ratang haholo.

Ba boela ba tsoela pele, ba ntse ba li mathisa ; tsa boela tsa
'na tsa ba isa hole-hole. Tsa ba tsa fihla mohlakeng o moholo,
tsa ba tsa robala teng hape. Ba li bolaea hape hosasane ho
hong, empa ba se ke ba bolaea nonyana e ratoang ke ngoan'a
morena. Joale ba boela pele le linonyana tsa bona hape.

Joale ka tsatsi la boraro tsa ba fihlisa mohlakeng o moholo-
hali o nang le mokhoro oa motonanahali. Linonyana tsa fihla,
tsa lula mohlakeng oo. Joale ba li bolaea haholo, empa ba se
ke ba bolaea e ratoang ke ngoan'a morena. Ba ba ba robala
hape, ba robala mokhorong. Joale ka hare ho mokhoro ba
fumana mahe a linonyana kaofela, a mang a phehiloe, a mang
a le tala, le linaoa tse beiloeng ka lipitsana, tse phehiloeng le
tse tala. Joale ba re : Banna, ha re jeng, hobane re lapile ha-
holo. Eaba ba li ja tse phehiloeng ; ba robala.

Eare bosiu bo boholo mong a ntlo a fihla. Lebitso la hae ke
Selomakupu. A fihla, a re : Na senthu se nkha kae ? Joale a
ba fumana ba se ba robetse, empa ngoan'a morena eena a fali-
mehile, a sa robala. Eaba o hlahisa leihlo hanyenyane, hore a
bone ntho ena e tšabehang, Selomakupu. A fumana a na le
leino le leng le lelelele le tšabehang, le lenala le leng le lelelele
le kang thipa, lee a ralang liphoofolo ka lona. Joale eaba oa
ikhurumetsa.

Joale Selomakupu sa tla le mekholitsoane le makhala ; joale
sa li halika ka lengeta le leholo. Eaba Selomakupu sea ja ;
sa ntoo bonesa, sa re : Ke tla ja enoa, ka moso ke je enoa, ka
moso ke je enoa, ka moso ke je enoa ..., enoa ke tla phethella
mohl'a molupe. Joale ba bang ba ne ba robetse ba sa utloe
letho, ha e se ngoan'a morena feela ea falimehileng. Eaba Se-
lomakupu se robala ke mokhathala. Joale sa tsoha e sa le ka
meso, sa ea sela naheng.

Joale bahlankana ba tsoha; eaba morena oa bona o ba bole-
11a kamoo a boneng ntho e tšabehang, Selomakupu se leino le
lelelele, le lenala le leng le lelelele. Joale ba tsoha, ba bolaea
linonyana tseo. Ka tsatsi leo ba bolaea e ratoang ke ngoan'a
morena. Joale ba lula fatše, ba etsa likola ; letsatsi la ba la
ba likella.

Eaba ngoan'a morena o re : Joale banna, re tla robala kae ?
Kajeno ntho eane e tšabehang e tla tla re ja ka leino le lelelele.
Eaba ba re : Che, ngoan'a morena, re tla itlama ka thapo raa-
otong kaofela ha re robala ; joale ea tla utloa pele o tla re tsosa

as in the other Ba-Suto versions and in the Kaffir, Xosa, Ronga and Fang tales.

3 The same or similar words are found in most versions, as also in the Kaffir
story of Uhisana (Folk-Lore Journal , I, p. 23).

212 FOLK-TALES

who hears her first will wake us all ; we shall then rise and
fight her.1 They cooked the flesh of the birds, they ate them
together with the eggs and the beans. Afterwards they slept,
having fastened themselves at the legs with a grass rope.

The hag came again in the middle of the night, crying : Se-
lomakupu ! She cried another time : Selomakupu ! The chiefs
son shook them all. She arrived and said : Oo ! they are still
here. She roasted her food again in the potsherd, ate, and
went to sleep. She rose again in the morning, and went to
invite other Kupus, saying: I have found people, let us go and
eat them.

Next morning the chiefs son said : Let us depart and go
home. They took their head ornaments in a great hurry, they
were making haste. They departed. When they were already
far, the chief s son found that he had left in the hut of the Kupu
the head ornament made from the bird he liked.2 He asked his
servants: Who will go and fetch my head ornament ? Let the
one who loves me most take upon himself the task to go and
fetch my head ornament. They said: Oo, chief! we are afraid
the Kupus will eat us.

Now the chiefs son scarified himself in order that the Kupus
should not see him; he then anointed his spear with medicine
and planted it in the ground. After doing that he said : If you
see my spear falling down know then that I am dead; but if it
only shakes know that the Kupus are merely catching me. Now
if you see my spear falling down you will know that I am dead,
and you must then go on and arrive home ; when you arrive tell
my father, saying : Your son is dead, he has been killed by the
Kupus.21

The chiefs son went with a great speed till he arrived at the
big hut ot the Kupus ; he found that there was a big noise and
fighting among the Kupus. They were attacking Selomakupu,
saying : You have deceived us, you said that they were here.
Where are they ? The chiefs son stretched his hand towards
the top of the hut, plucked off his head ornament and took it
away. The Kupus in the hut then smelt a man ; they went out
in a crowd and pursued him. But he did his best, he ran very,
very quickly, munching the medicine he had in his bag. He
ran quicker than the Kupus. At a time they came near catching
him, his spear shook then. His young men stooped down,

1 The feature of the string by which the boys bind themselves together is
found in nearly all the versions.

2 This episode is also found in all versions of the tale.

Selomakupu 213

kaofela ; joale re tla tsoha, re e loantse. Eaba ba pheha lina-
ma tsa linonyana, ba li ja le mahe le linaoa. Ba ntoo robala,
ba itšoasitse ka thapo maotong.

Ea boela ea tla ka bosiu bo boholo, ea re: Selomakupu! ...
Ea boela ea eketsa hape, ea re: Selomakupu! .. Eaba ngoan'a
morena o ba sisinya kaofela. Joale ea fihla, ea re : Oo ! ba sa
le teng. Joale ea boela ea halika ka lengeta, ea e--ja, ea ntoo
robala. Joale ea tsoha hape hosasane, ea ea mema likupu tse
ling, ea re : Ke fumane batho ba le teng; ha re tsamaeng, re
e'o ba ja.

Joale he hosasane ngoan'a morena a re : Ha re theoheng, re
boeleng ha eso. Joale ba nka likola tsa bona ka ho potlaka
ho hoholo, ba itlhahanela. Joale ba tsamaea. Ha ba se ba le
hole, ngoan'a morena a fumana hoba sekola sa hae sa nonyana
eo a e ratang o se siile holim'a mokhoro oa kupu. Joale a re
ho bahlanka ba hae : Na ke mang ea tla lata sekola sa ka ; ea
nthatang ho fetisa a ke a itlame hore o tla lata sekola sa ka.
Joale ba re: Oo ! monghali, rea tšaba, hobane Kupu e tla re ja.

Eaba oa iphatsa ngoan'a morena, hore likupu li tie li mo
lebale ; eaba o tlotsa lerumo la hae ka sehlare, eaba o le hloma
fatše ; eaba o re : Etl'ere ha le bona lerumo la ka le oa, le tsebe
hobane ke shoele; empa ha le tlakasela, le tsebe hobane likupu
li batla li ntšoara; ke eona pontšo eo ke le behelang eona.
Athe ha le bona lerumo le oele fatse, le tie le tsebe hobane ke
shoele, ebe le tsoela pele, le ee hae ; 'me ha le fihla ho ntate le
tla re : Mora oa hao o shoele, o bolailoe ke likupu.

Joale ngoan'a morena a tsamaea ka lebelo le leholo, a ba a
fihla mokhorong o moholo oa Kupu, a fumana lerata le leholo
la ntoa ea likupu. Joale li loantša Selomakupu, li re : U re the-
tsitse, u itse batho ba teng ; na ba kae ? Eaba o nanabela se-
hlohlolong ngoan'a morena, o tsomola sekola ; eaba o nka
sekola sa hae. Eaba likupu li utloa monkho oa motho ka tlung,
tsa fsoa li patisane; tsa mo phallela. A mpa a ipha matla, a
matha ka lebelo le leholo, a phura sehlare sa hae ka mokotla-
neng oa hae. Joale likupu tsena a li siea ka lebelo. 'Nge 'ngoe
li batle li mo tšoara, eaba lerumo la hae lea tlakasela. Eaba
bahlankana ba hae ba ea inama, ba re : Jo ! morena oa rōna

3 The spear planted in the ground to show to his companions whether Se-
kholomi is living or dead is likewise mentioned in nearly all versions ; cf. p. 189
note.

214 FOLK-TALES

crying : Alas our chief ! the Knpus are going to eat him. Pre-
sently the spear stood erect again ; they rejoiced.

The chief's son went on ; he ate some of his medicine again ;
he outdistanced the Kupus and rejoined his servants. They
rejoiced greatly. They went on, going to their village. When
they reached the village they went into the men's court singing
the war song. One of the women of the village cried : Ishe !
as all our young men have gone long ago, who are these com-
ing into our village, singing the war song, when we are left
in sadness ? The chief came and found that it was his son.
Their hair had remained uncut, the women were grey with
ashes. But they rejoiced now when they saw that their children
had arrived.

The Kupus also went back and returned home. When they
arrived, they killed the big Kupu and ate her. Then they chop-
ped the nail of the Kupu ; cattle and goats and sheep came out
of it, many, many of them ; the Kupus ate them.1
It is the end of the tale.

XXXII
SEKHOLOMI AND TAKALASI

They say there was a young man called Sekholomi ; he wanted
to marry Takalasi. On his way he arrived at a large marsh.
He could not find any way through it, so he went on alongside
it, and slept on the way. Next morning he met with a rat.2 It
said to him : Shall I cut a way for you ? Sekholomi assented.
It cut it, he passed through it. The rat said to him : Come here.
It gave him some instructions, gave him a gall bladder, bound
it to his neck, and said: Give heed to what this gall bladder
says ; as for you I have pity on you, for you have done well and

I An episode again found in nearly all versions, as well as in many other
stories.

Sckholomi and Takalasi 21 5

likupu li ea mo ja. Joale lerumo la boela la tsepama hantle ;
joale ba thabile.

Joale ngoan'a morena a 'na a tsoela pele, a phura sehlare
hape, a ba a li siea, a fihla ho bahlanka ba hae. Joale ba tha-
ba haholo, ba tsoela pele, ba ea motseng oa habo. Eitse ha ba
fihla motseng oa habo, ba kena khotla, ba etsa mokorotlo.
Eaba e mong oa basali ba motse o re : Ishe ! bana ba rōna e
sa le ba ea, na bana ke ba tsoang kae ba kenang motseng oa
rōna ba etsa mokorotlo, athe rōna re lutse ka masoabi ? Joale
eaba morena oa tla, a fumana hobane ke mora oa hae. Joale
bane ba le lihlotho, le basali ba le baputsoa ke molora. Joale
ba thaba ha ba bona hobane bana ba bona ba fihlile.

Joale likupu le tsona tsa khutla, tsa boela habo tsona. Joale
ha li fihla, tsa bolaea Kupu e kholo, tsa e ja. Joale tsa ratha
lenala la Kupu, ha tsoa likhomo le lipoli le linku, ntho tse
ngata ; eaba likupu lia ja.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXXII

SEKHOLOMI LE TAKALASI

Ba re e ne e le Sekholomi, a ea nyala Takalasi. Eitse ha a
tsamaea a fihla lehlakeng le leholo, a se ke a fumana tsela, a
'na a le nyolosa, a ba a robala tseleng. Eitse hosasane a kha-
hlana le leboli. La re ho eena : Ke u betlele tsela ? Sekholomi
a lumela. La e betla. Eaba oa feta. La re : U tie koano. La
mo laela, la mo nea nyooko, la mo fasa eona molaleng, la re : U
mamele se boleloang ke nyooko ena ; uena kea u qenehela, ho-
bane u ile ua etsa hantle, u se ke ua senya bana ba ka ; ba bang
ba bangata ba feta mona ba kenya likhomo feela, li robile bana

2 A rat helps Maliane in the same way (No. XX). A mouse also comes to
the help of Sikulume (THEAL, op. cit. p. 81) and of Ubabuze (CALLAWAY, op. cit.
p. 97) but in quite different circumstances.

216 FOLK-TALES

have not harmed my children ; many other people pass here
and take their cattle into the reeds, the cattle trample my child-
ren, some have even died because of it. But as for you, you
acted well towards me.1

He went on and arrived at Takalasi's in the afternoon ; he
arrived, gave the cattle of the dowry, they were sufficient. They
slept there. At night a lion came. The gall bladder said: Se-
kholomi, know that a lion is coming. Sekholomi woke and sat
up. It said: Wake your servants and climb into the rafters of
the hut. They climbed when the lion was about to enter ; it
entered and found there was no one there. It went out, went to
its mother, and asked her: Where are the guests? She said:
They are in the hut. It said : They are not there, I looked for
them, I could not see them. Its mother said : Go back, you will
see them. It went back, it missed them. It went back to its
mother; the night cleared off without it seeing them.

In the morning early Sekholomi went to herd, his servants
remained at home ; at evening he brought back the cattle and
came home. They slept there. At night the gall bladder said
again : Sekholomi, wake up, the lion is coming. Sekholomi
woke and sat up. When the lion was near, the gall bladder
said: Wake up your servants and climb into the rafters of the
hut. They climbed and stayed there. The lion arrived, it was
looking for them, but could not find them. It went to ask its
mother : Where are the guests now ? Its mother said : They are
there in the hut. It looked for them till the night cleared off,
without seeing them.

Next morning Sekholomi went to herd. When he arrived at
the veldt, he moulded a pipe for hemp, and smoked; he sang
his praises song. The lion heard him, and came roaring. The
gall bladder told him to stand up and to leave his clothes, keep-
ing only his kerrie and his spear. He went on smoking as
before. When it approached, he left his clothes near his pipe,
took his spear and his kerrie, and stood up. When the lion was
drawing near, the gall bladder said : Run to that ox yonder. He
ran to it, arrived, and stood near it. The lion drew near. The
gall bladder said : Run round and round it, and pass underneath
it, at times jump over it. He and the lion ran round and round
the ox, at times he passed under it, at times he jumped over it.
At last the gall bladder said : Pass under it. He passed under.
The gall bladder said : Stab the lion with your spear. He stab-

I In the Zulu tale mentioned in the preceding note Ubabuze is told by the
mouse to kill it and keep its skin ; the skin warns him of any impending danger.

Sekholomi and Takalasi 217

ba ka, ba bang ba bile ba shoele. Joale uena u ile ua etsa
molemo.

Joale a tsamaea, a fihla ha Takalasi motseare oa mantsiboea ;
a fihla, a nyala, tsa phetha. Ba robala teng. Eitse bosiu tau
ea tla ; nyooko ea re : Sekholomi, u tsebe hore tau ea tla. Se-
kholomi a tsoha, a lula. Ea re : Tsosa bahlanka ba hao, le
hloelle libalakeng. Ba hloella, e se e le haufi le ho kena ; ea
kena, ea fumana ho se letho. Joale ea tsoa, ea ea ho 'm'a eona ;
ea 'motsa, ea re : Na baeti ba kae ? A re : Ba ka tlung. Ea re :
Ha ba eo, ke batlile, ke hlōtsoe. 'M'a eona a re : Boela, u tla
ba bona. Ea boela ea boela ho 'm'a eona, ho fihlela bosiu bo
ba bo e-sa, e sa ba bone.

Eitse e ša le hosasa, Sekholomi a alosa, bahlanka ba hae ba
sala hae; mantsiboea a orosa, a tla hae. Ba robala teng. Ei-
tse bosiu hape nyooko ea re : Sekholomi, tsoha, tau ea tla.
Sekholomi a tsoha, a lula. Ha e atametse, nyooko ea re : Tsosa
bahlanka ba hao, le hloelle libalakeng. Ba hloella, ba lula teng.
Ea fihla tau, ea ba batla, ea se ke ea ba fumana. Ea ea botsa
'm'a eona : Baeti joale na ba kae ? 'M'a eona a re : Ba teng
moo ka tlung. Ea ba batla bosiu ho sa, e sa ba fumana.

Hosasa Sekholomi a alosa. Eitse ha a fihla naheng a phu-
nya kakana ea matakoane, a tsuba, a ithoka. Tau ea mo utloa,
ea tla e puruma. Nyooko ea re a erne, a siee likobo, a nke koto
le lerumo feela. Eaba o nts'a tsuba ho tsoela pele. Eitse ha
e atamela, a siea likobo kakaneng ea hae, a nka lerumo le koto,
a ema. Eitse ha e mo atamela, nyooko ea re : Mathela pholong
eane. A mathela ho eona, a fihla, a ema pel'a eona. Tau ea
atamela. Nyooko ea re : U 'no u e pota-pote, u tsoe le ka tlas'a
eona; 'nge 'ngoe u e palame holimo. Ba pota-potisana joalo
le tau, a nts'a e-tsoa ka tlase ho pholo, a e palama ka holimo.
Qetellong nyooko ea re : Tsoa ka tlas'a eona. A tsoa. Ea re:
E hlabe ka lerumo. A e hlaba, ea e-shoa. Joale Sekholomi a
ithoka ha a e bolaile.

In a Ronga tale (JUNOD, op. cit. p. 160) Mutipi is warned in the same way by
two invisible feathers he has on his head.

218 FOLK-TALES

bed it, it died. Sekholomi then sang his praises song after
having killed it.

The evening came ; he brought the cattle back and went home.
He arrived and told the people that he had killed the lion which
had been troubling him during the night, to-day he would have
rest. The masters of the lion wept because it was their child.1

Next day Sekholomi departed to go home with his wife. On
the way they met with a large number of birds, a company of
them. He went away with some of the young men in pursuit of
those birds. They slept on the way. Next day they killed them.
After having finished killing them they saw a hut. They went
to it, but found nobody in it. They remained there.

At night the owner of the hut came ; she was a very active
person, she brewed beer and went away, still during the night,
going back to where she came from. In the very early morning
she came back, arrived, and strained her beer; she finished
doing so. When the night was about to end she went back to
where she had come from. The young men awoke, found beer
there and drank it. The gall bladder said to Sekholomi : Do
not finish any of the pots where food has been put, leave some
for the owner of the hut. They did so, all ; of the bread also
they left some pieces ; of the birds they had killed they left the
heads.

They remained a day there, and slept. The owner of the hut
came again ; she arrived, ground fermented kaffir corn, brewed
beer, and went away again. In the very early morning she came
with another one ; they strained the beer, cooked bread, dished
it up ; they went to the young men, they arrived and touched
them, saying: I shall eat this one, and I shall eat that one. As
for Sekholomi, they said he was too thin. They went on doing
so. When the night cleared off, they went away.

The young men awoke in the morning before sunrise. The
gall bladder said : Sekholomi, depart and go. They went. When
they were on their way, Sekholomi said that he had forgotten
his headdress. He went back alone, saying he was going to
fetch it. He planted the plume of his shield near his young-
men, and said they must look at it ; if it fell down they would
know that he was dead, if it did not fall down they would know
that he was still living. They sat down ; Sekholomi went back.

When he arrived in view of the hut, he found there was a
number of cannibals who had come to eat those young men. He

I This lion was probably a young man who, by witchcraft, had changed
himself into a lion, something like the were-wolf of European folklore.

Sekholomi and Takalasi 219

Ea e-ba mantsiboea, a orosa, a ea hae. A fihla, a bolela hae
hore o bolaile tau e be e ntse e mo khathatsa le bosiu, kajeno o
tla phomola. Beng ba tau ba 11a, kahobane e le ngoana
oa bona.

Eitse hosasane Sekholomi a tloha, a ea ha habo hammoho le
mosali oa hae. Eitse ha ba le tseleng, ba kopana le linonyana
tse sehlopha. A khaoha le sekoto se seng sa bahlankana, ba
sala linonyana tseo morao. Ba ba ba robala tseleng. Eitse
hosasane ba li bolaea. Ha ba qeta ho li bolaea, ba bona ntlo
e 'ngoe. Ba fapohela teng, ba fumana ho se motho. Eaba ba
Ma.

Eitse bosiu mong a ntlo a fihla e le motho ea mafolo-folo ; a
sila 'mela, a ritela leting, a ba a khutla e nts'e e le har'a bosiu,
a boela moo a tsoang. Eitse ka meso a boela a fihla, a fihla a
le hlotla, a le qeta. Eitse ha bosiu bo oela fatše, a boela moo a
tsoang teng. Ba tsohile ; ba fumana leting le le teng, eaba ba
le noa. Nyooko ea re ho Sekholomi : Pitseng e 'ngoe le e 'ngoe
e tsetsoeng lijo le se ke la qeta, le 'ne le siele mong a ntlo. Ba
etsa joalo kaofela, le bohobeng ba 'na ba siea lingoathoana ;
le linonyaneng tseo ba li bolaileng ba 'na ba siea lihlohoana.

Ba hlola letsatsi teng, ba ba ba robala. A boela a fihla mong
a ntlo ; a fihla a sila 'mela, a ritela leting, a boela a khutla.
Eitse ka meso, ba tla ba le babeli, ba fihla ba hlotla leting, ba
pheha bohobe, ba bo tšola ; ba ea ho bahlankana bao, ba fihla,
ba 'na ba ba tsoara, ba 'na ba re : Nka ja eo, ka ja eo ; ba re
Sekholomi o otile. Ba 'na ba etsa joalo. Eitse ha bosiu bo se
bo tla sa, ba khutla.

Ba tsoha e sa le hosasa, tsatsi le e-so ho chabe. Nyooko ea
re : Sekholomi, theohang le tsamaee. Ba tsamaea. Eitse ha
ba le tseleng, Sekholomi a re o lebetse sekola sa hae. A khutla
a le mong, a re oa se batla. Eaba o hloma mokhele ho bahla-
nkana ba hae. a re ba talime mokhele 00 ha o e-oa, ba tie ba
tsebe hore o shoele ; ha o sa oe, ba tsebe hore o nts'a phela.
Eaba ba lula f atše ; Sekholomi eena a khutla.

Eitse ha a hlaha hona tlung eo a fumana e le batho ba ba-
ngata ba malimo, ba bang ba tlile ho tla ja bahlankana bao.

220 FOLK-TALES

went on. When he drew near he changed himself into a bee. l
He entered the hut humming, he kept on humming. He arrived
and took his headdress, still being a bee. When he came out
he became a man again. The cannibals pursued him a long
distance ; his plume inclined towards the ground. When the
cannibals were about to catch him, he threw his kerrie behind
him; it became a mountain, and then the animals could no
more see him.2

When he had already gone far, where they could no more see
him, he took back his kerrie. He arrived at his young men, and
told them all he had seen. When he arrived at the reed thicket,
he came to the rat, saluted it, and thanked it for its help; he
said that he would reward it when he reached home. Well, he
went on. When they arrived at a sheltered place, he found
there some Bushmen cattle, took them, went with them, and
arrived home with them.

XXXIII

THE MOTHEMELLE

They say that there was Bulane's daughter. One day she
told her mother to give her some kaffir corn that she might stamp
and cook it. The mother refused, saying that the kaffir corn
was moleso oa likhomo. The girl prayed her much ; the mother
told the father ; they were silent.

Next morning they went to work in the gardens. At noon the
girl took her grains of kaffir corn and cooked them in a large
pot ; she sat down before it. When she went to uncover the
pot, she found it quite full. She gave some handfuls to the
girls, she also took some ; she ate with her sister. Presently
they saw the pot uncovering itself; the stamped grains went on

1 In a Ronga tale (JUNOD, op. cit. p. 162) Mutipi changes himself also into a
humming bee.

2 Objects, magical or otherwise, which are thrown down by a pursued per-

The Mothemelle 221

Eaba o nts'a tsamaea. Eitse ha a atamela, a iphetola notši.
Eaba o kena a nts'a bobola; o nts'a bobola. A fihla a nka
sekola sa hae, e ntse e le notši. Eitse ha a tsoela kantle, a fe-
toha motho ; malimo a mo tebela baka se selelele, mokhele o
nts'o sekame. Eitse ha ba se ba ea mo tšoara, a akhela molamu
kamorao, oa fetoha thaba : malimo eaba ha a sa 'mona.

Eitse ha a se a le hole moo a ke keng a hlola a 'mona, a
boela a o nka. A fihla ho bahlankana ba hae, a fihla a ba
phetela tseo a li boneng. Eitse ha a fihla mahlakeng ao, a
fihla ha leboli leo, a fihla a le lumelisa, a le leboha kamoo le
mo thusitseng kateng ; a ba a re o tla le leboha ha a fihla hae.
Che, a feta. Eitse ha ba fihla sekoting, a fumana likhomo tsa
Baroa, a li hapa, a tsamaea ka tsona, a ea ka tsona hae.

/

XXXIII

MOTHEMELLE

Ba re e ne e re le ngoan'a Butane. Eitse ka mohlomong a
re, 'm'ae a mo fe mabele, a phehe likhobe. Eaba 'm'ae oa hana,
a re mabele ke moleso oa likhomo. A mo rapela haholo ; 'm'ae
a ba a joetsa ntat'ae ; eaba ba thōla.

Hosasane ha uoa letsemeng. Eitse motšeare a nka mabele
a mabeli, a a pheha ka pitsa e kholo ; eaba o nts'a lutse. Eitse
ha a re oa koaholla, a fumana pitsa e se e tletse. A li ngoathe-
la banana, le eena a ngoatha ; ba e-ja le ngoan'abo. Eaba ba
bona pitsa e se e koaholoha ; eaba khobe li ntse li thelehela

fatse ; tsa ba tsa tlala lelapa.

son to hinder the pursuit of his enemies are often met with in folk-tales ; cf.
CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 144, Theal, op. cit. p. 83. In the Ronga version Sikulume
hinders the pursuit by an incantation.

222 FOLK-TALES

falling down upon the ground till they filled the reed enclosure. I
The little girl said to her : You see now, when mother told
you you refused to hear. The elder one went out, took all her
clothes and stood outside. The stamped corn was still flowing
outside. The maiden said :

Mothemelle-themelle,
Take me on high, mothemelle-themelle.
My mother told me, m )themelle-themelle,
Do not cook corn, mothemelle-themelle,
The corn is the food, mothemelle-themelle,
Of Masilo's cattle, mothemelle-themelle.
The mothemelle took her.2 The younger sister also came out;
when she saw the mothemelle taking her sister she said :
Monyemelle-nyemelle,

Bring down this child of my mother, monyemelle-nyemelle. 3
The mothemelle brought her down. As soon as she came
down she beat her younger sister who was ill, she struck her.
She then told the mothemelle again to take her on high. The
mothemelle took her. The younger girl came out again and
said :

Monyemelle-nyemelle,

Bring down this child of my mother, monyemelle-nyemelle.
It brought her down. As soon as she arrived she struck her
sister and shut her in the hut ; she made the door fast with
stones so that she was unable to get out. She then stood outside
and said :

Mothemelle-themelle,
Take me on high, mothemelle-themelle.
My mother told me, mothemelle-themelle,
Do not cook corn, mothemelle-themelle,
The corn is the food, mothemelle-themelle,
Of Masilo's cattle, mothemelle-themelle.
The mothemelle took her and went away with her, it went far.
When it had gone far it dropped her where she could not see
any village.

When her mother and her people arrived at evening they found
that the cooked corn had flowed out to the refuse heap, they
found also that the door of the hut was made fast with stones.
They opened, and asked the girl ; she said : She has been taken
by the monyemelle. The mother cried, the little one also cried.
She remained there.

As for the elder girl, she went on ; she met with young men

I Cf. the log which gives milk in the tale of Kumonngoe (No. XVII), and the
two pots which when churned give butter in the story of Mosimoli (No. XXIV).
por moleso oa likhomo cf. No. VIII.

The Mothcmelle 223

Ngoanana e monyenyane a re : Ua bona he, 'mè eitse ha a
u joetsa, ua ngangella. Eaba e moholo oa tloha, a nka kobo
tsa hae kaofela, a ema kantle. Joale khobe li se ntse li tsoela

kantle. A re :

Mothemelle-themelle,
Nkise holimo, mothemelle-themelle,
'Mè a ntjoetsa, a re : mothemelle-themelle,
Se apehe likhobe, mothemelle-themelle,
Khobe ke moleso, mothemelle-themelle,
Oa tjepa tsa Masilo, mothemelle-themelle.
Eaba Mothemelle oa mo kuka. Eaba e monyenyane le eena
o tsoela kantle; ha a bona mothemelle o nka ngoan'abo, a re:
Monyemelle-nyemelle,

Busa ngoan'eo oa 'me, monyemelle-nyemelle.
Eaba mothemelle o mo isa tlase. Eitse ha a fihla, a otla ngoa-
n'enoa oabo e monyenyane a kulang, a mo thula. Eaba o
boela, a re mothemelle o mo ise holimo. Eaba oa mo nka mo-
themelle. Eaba e monyenyane o tsoela kantle hape, a re :

Monyemelle-nyemelle,

Busa ngoan'eo oa 'mè, monyemelle-nyemelle.
Eaba oa 'musa. Eitse ha a fihla, a mo khatla, a ba a mo
kenya ka tlung, a mo katiela, hore a sitoe ho tsoa. Eaba o ema
kantle, a re :

Mothemelle-themelle,
Nkise holimo, mothemelle-themelle,
'Mè a ntjoetsa, a re: mothemelle-themelle,
Se apehe likhobe, mothemelle-themelle,
Khobe ke moleso, mothemelle-themelle,
Oa tjepa tsa Masilo, mothemelle-themelle.
Eaba mothemelle oa mo nka; eaba o ea le eena, o ea hole.
Eitse ha o se o le hole, oa mo lahla a sa bone le motse.

Bo-'m'ae eitse ha ba fihla mantsiboea, ba fumana likhobe li
tsoetse thotobolong, ba fumana le ka tlung ho katietsoe ka ma-
joe. Ba bula, ba botsa ngoana ; are: O nkuoe ke monyemelle.
Eaba bo-'m'ae ba 11a ; le ngoanana a 11a. Eaba oa lula.

Eena a tsamaea; a khahlana le bahlankana ba kalame lipere.

2 The Mothemelle is a fabulous bird ; cf. the Tlatlasolle in No. XV.

3 The little girl calls it Monyemelle out of spite, instead of its real name
Mothemelle.

224 FOLK-TALES

riding horses.1 They came up to her and said : Good day. They
had with them a chiefs son who was dumb. As soon as he saw
her, he said : Khele ! The people who were with him wondered.
He said : It is the first time I have seen such a beautiful maiden.
They put her on a horse, they went with her to a village and
remained there.

She gave birth to a child. When she had already two child-
ren, she felt a desire to go home. Cattle and men were chosen
to go with her. They went on, not knowing where they were
going. At last she arrived where the mothemelle had dropped
her. They went on, enquiring continually the way to her people's
village ; at last they arrived. When her young sister saw her
she cried. Her maternal uncle and all the people were told
about her ; they came. She was married by a dowry of forty
oxen. They remained there at her village for a while ; then
they returned to where they came from, they went on, they
slept, at last they arrived and remained at home.
When the young girl became a maiden she said :

Mothemelle-themelle,

Take me on high, mothemelle-themelle.

My mother told me, mothemelle-themelle,

Do not cook corn, mothemelle-themelle,

The corn is the food, mothemelle-themelle,

Of Masilo's cattle, mothemelle-themelle.
The mothemelle said : Are you not mad ? Was it not you who
were continually upbraiding me! She implored the mothemelle,
asking him to take her to her sister. The mothemelle refused.
After a long time he snatched her and went away with her.
When he was near a village of cannibals (it was not a village
on the surface of the earth, but down below under a lake), he
dropped her just there.2 The cannibals saw her, and came
hopping on one leg. Then the mothemelle went away, far away
yonder.

When the cannibals arrived, the maiden said : He ! he ! among
what dreadful people is my sister married ! He ! when you came
to our village you were not so. The cannibals made signs with
their eyebrows, and said : Come. She said : You are mad ; as
for me, take me to my sister's. The cannibals took her; they
went walking and hopping wildly. She said : Let me go, or I
also shall become like you. They arrived at the lake, left her,
saying : Sleep here. They gave her some skin blankets.

I The horses are here an adaptation of the tale to present circumstances.
Originally pack oxen probably figured in the tale, or more likely still, the men
were walking on foot.

The Mothemelle 225

Ba fihla, ba re : Lumela ! ba e-na le ngoan'a morena, e le semu-
mu. Eitse ha a 'mona, a re: Khele ! Batho ba makala ba nang
le eena. A re : Ke ho qala ke bone moroetsana e motle hakalo.
Eaba ba mo kalamisa. Ba fihla le eena hae, ba lula.

A ba a ba le ngoana. Eitse ha ba le babeli bana ba hae, a
hloloheloa ha habo. Eaba ho qotsoa likhomo le batho. Ba
tsamaea ba sa tsebe moo ba eang teng. A ba a fihla moo mo-
themelle o nong o mo lahle teng. Ba tsamaea ba ntse ba batla
ha habo, ba ba ba fihla. Eitse mohla ba fihlang, a fumana
bo-'m'ae ba sa le lihlotho. Ngoan'abo eitse ha a 'mona a 11a.
Ha joetsoa le bo-malom'ae, kaofela bahabo, ba tla. A fihla, a
nyaloa ka mashome a mane. Eaba ba lula ha habo mona.
Eaba ba khutlela moo ba tsoang teng, ba tsamaea, ba robala,
ba ba ba fihla, ba lula ha habo.

Eitse ngoanana ha a se a le moholo, le eena a re :
Mothemelle-themelle,
Nkise holimo, mothemelle-themelle.
'Mè a ntjoetsa, a re : mothemelle-themelle,
Se apehe likhobe. mothemelle-themelle,
Khobe ke moleso, mothemelle-themelle,
Oa tjepa tsa Masilo, mothemelle-themelle.
Eaba mothemelle o re : Eka ua hlanya, ke re u no u 'ne ua
nkomanya. Eaba o rapela mothemelle, o re mothemelle o mo
ise ho ngoan'abo. Eaba mothemelle oa hana. Eitse e se e le
khale, oa mo re hloi, oa tsamaea ka eena. Eitse ha o se o le
pel'a motse oa malimo, empa e seng motse o ka holimo, e le o
ka letšeng, oa fihla, oa mo lahla hona teng. Malimo a 'mona,
a tla a qhiletsa ho eena. Eaba mothemelle o ikela koana hole.

Eitse ha malimo a fihla, a re: He! he! ngoan'eso o nyetsoe
moo ho tšabehang hakakang. He ! mohlang ola le ileng ha eso
le ne le se joalo. Malimo a qekotsana ka lintši, a re : Tlo. A
re : Lea hlanya, nkiseng ha ngoan'eso 'na. Eaba malimo a mo
kakasa, a tsamaea, a ithaburanya. A re : Le 'na ke tla ba tjee
ka lōna, ntloheleng. Eaba a fihla pel'a letša, a mo siea, a re :
Robala hona moo. A mo fa likobo tse ling.

2 The cannibals live in a village under the waters of a big lake. We have
already seen in some of our tales an idea of the same nature.

226 FOLK-TALES

At nightfall an old woman appeared ;J she said : You stay
here while they are busy washing the old pot in which they
will eat you! The maiden answered: I do not like to be spoken
to by people like you. The woman said : Although I may be
as I am, I give you good advice. She said : Who said that I
must be advised by infirm people ? I tell you they told me they
were going to take me to my sister. That woman implored her
to listen.

The maiden said : When they find that I am no longer here,
what will they do ? The woman said : Go quickly and get from
yonder a long stone. She came with it. She took her shoulder
coat, and wrapped the stone in it. The old woman remained
silent. Then the maiden took an old rag and made a small
head out of it.2 Then she put the stone at the place where she
had been sleeping. She went away saying: Good bye, you
stupid old woman. She went away running.

She went on, saying:

Monyemelle-nyemelle,

Take me back home, monyemelle-nyemelle.

But there was no answer as the mothemelle was not there. She
walked, scolding continually and some times crying, as it was
night. She kept on calling for the mothemelle. She found a
river without a ford ; she said : What shall I do ? I may as well
go back to the cannibals. But the river did not answer her at
all. She kept on calling for the mothemelle.

She gathered her skirts to run ; in departing she said : Ah, you
monyemelle as wicked as death! She ran, going down along
the river course. She ran, not finding any place where she could
cross. She arrived at a lake into which the river flowed. She
said : I am sure the mothemelle is here. What shall I do in
order to be saved, as the mothemelle has left me so ?

She stood up by the lake and said : Mothemelle-themelle, oh
you beautiful one ! take me back to my mother as you are
beautiful. But the lake kept silent. She said : It is enough
to kill one. She began to go back upwards along the river
course. She was scolding continually. She went along the
river course, and arrived above where the river began ; a
thick bush stopped her. She wondered where she could pass.
She entered the bush and cut her way through it, but the bush was
too thick, as it was where nobody came to gather wood. She
said : Well ! when I arrive home I shall thrash the mothemelle
and drive him away. At last she went out from the bush at the

I The incident of the old woman who comes to help is very frequent in our
tales.

Tha Mothemelle 227

Eitse ka shoalane qhekoana la hlaha ; eaba le re : U lutse ka
mona, ho ntso ho hlatsuoa lengeta leo u tla jeloa ho lona. A re :
'Na ha ke rate ho joetsoa ke ntho tse tjee ka uena. A re : 'Na
leha ke le tjee, kea u eletsa. Eaba o re : Ke mang ea itseng
ke eletsoa ke lihole ? ke re ba itse ba tla mphelehetsa, ba
nkise ha ngoan'eso. Eaba mosali enoa oa mo rapela.

A re : Etlare ha ba fumana ke le sieo mona, ba tla etsa'ng ?
Eaba o re : Titima, u nke lejoe mane le lelelele. Eaba o tla
le lona. Eaba o nka kojoana ea hae ea thatšana ; eaba o
thata lejoe ka eona. Eaba qhekoana le ntse le thōtse. Eaba
o nka katana se seng, a se etsa hloho e nyenyane. Eaba o
le kenya ka mona ka moo a ba a robetse ka teng. Eaba oa
tloha : Lumela he ! leqhekoana tooe. Eaba o re oa matha.

O tsamaea a nts'a re :

Monyemelle-nyemelle,

Mpusetse ha eso, monyemelle-nyemelle.

Empa ha a arajoe ke letho, hoba monyemelle ha o eo. A
tsamaea a nts'a omana, a nts'a 11a ka 'nge 'ngoe ke bosiu. O
nts'a hoeletsa mothemelle. A fumana nōka e se nang leliboho,
a re : Ke re ke tla etsa joang ? nka mpa ka boela makhileng.
Eaba nōka e ntse e ithōletse eona. Eaba o nts'a hoeletsa mo-
themelle.

Eaba o fereletsa likobo tsa hae. Eitse ha a tloha a re : A
monyemelle o lonya oa ho shoa ! Eaba o matha, o theosa nōka.
A matha a sa bone moo a ea tšela teng ; a fihla letseng moo
nōka e feletseng teng. A re : Kea kholoa, mothemelle o hona
mona ; ekare ke tla bolokeha ka etsa joang, ha e le moo mo-
themelle o khaohane le 'na ?

Eaba o ema ka thōko ho letsa, a re : Mothemelle-themelle o
motlenyane-motlenyane, mpusetse ho 'mè, hobane u motlenyane.
Eaba letša le ntse le ithōletse. A re : *4Mona ke] ho ikhula
moea feela. A boela a qala ho nyolosa nōka. Joale o nts'a
omana. A nyolosa nōka, a tsamaea, a fihla moo nōka e fele-
tseng teng, moru e sa le o thiba. Joale a tsieloa na o tla feta
le kae. A kena har'a moru, a o feresa, e sa le moru o thibane,
hobane ha o roalloe ke motho. A re : Homme ! mothemelle,
mohla ke fihlang ha eso, ke tla fihla ke mo kotola, ke mo tlosa
ha eso. A ba a tsoela ka 'ngane ho moru, a re : Ha! ha tsoa,
'Malimapane, ngoanana ea bohlajane.

2 She makes a dummy figure like a girl in order to deceive the cannibals.

228 FOLK-TALES

other end; she said : Ha! she has come out 'Malimapana, the
little girl full of wisdom !

She went on ; she said : To-day I will arrive, even though the
mothemelle wants to annoy me. She went on ; she did not find
her parents' village ; at last she arrived at another village. As
she approached she saw a lame woman at the fountain. She
asked the maiden : Help me to put my pitcher on my head. She
answered : Are you mad ? when you see how tired I am, do you
think perhaps that I am coming from here or here ; I came from
where your fathers are walking on one foot only, I have lived
among dreadful people. She said again : If you want me to
help you to put your pitcher on your head give me some bread.
The other said: Come, if you help me so, I shall give you some
bread.1

The maiden said: Give me water to drink. She drew some
for her. The maiden said : You draw water for me in such a
drinking gourd! It must first be well washed inside, then you
must wash yourself and wash your hands, and then you may
draw water for me. The lame woman did so ; she drew water
and gave her some. The maiden said: I am beginning to find
water, I have travelled much. She smelt the calabash and said :
Your calabash smells. Then that lame woman Seroalakajana
said : With what shall I now draw water for you as you say the
drinking gourd smells ? She answered : That gourd smells like
you, I am sure your bread also smells. She took the drinking
gourd and threw it far away.

She walked on and went to the village. She found some girls
and asked them : Where are your mothers ? Will the}' not give
me some bread? The girls said: They are there. She said:
Where is Seroalankhoana ? They said : Yonder, in that hut. She
went. She arrived and found 'Maseroalankhoana grinding. She
said : You little woman, you who are letting your breasts hang
over that mill, your lame daughter is still trying to put her
pitcher on her head. I have broken her drinking gourd at the
fountain, I found that it smelt ; come home with me and I shall
give you a fine one. That woman wondered. The maiden
went out ; the woman said : Do you speak to me, my dear ? —
Since when am I your dear, you must be a little mad, you wo-
man, if you at once call people whom you begin to see "my
dear." The woman then remained silent.

She went on still scolding. She entered the courtyard of an
old woman; she arrived and said: Good day., grandmother!
what have you cooked here in the reed enclosure, grandmother?

I For an incident of the same kind see the story of MaJiane (No. XX).

The Mothemelle 229

Eaba oa tsamaea, a re: Kajeno lena ke fihlilq, leha mothe-
melle o ka re o nketsetsa bokako. A tsamaea a sa bone le ha
habo, a ba a fihlela motse o mong. Eitse ha s'a tla atamela,
a bona Seroalankhoana se selibeng. Eaba se re : Nroese. A
re : Eka ua hlanya, ha u mpona ke itapetse hakale, u re ekaba
ke tsoa moo le moo ; ke tsoa moo bo-ntat'ao ba tsamaeang ka
nto le le leng, ke phetse har'a ntho tse tšabehang. Eaba o re :
Ekare ke tla u roesa ua 'ngoathela bohobe heno. Eaba o re :
Tlo, ha u ka nroesa, ke tla u ngoathela.

Eaba o fihla a re : Nkhelle metsi, ke noe. Eaba oa mo khe-
11a. A re : U re u nkhella ka mohope o tjee ; e ka khona o
hlatsuoe ka hare ka mono, u be u iphotle, u hatlele matsoho, u
tebane ho nkhella. Eaba sehole seno se etsa joalo. Eaba sea
kha, eaba sea mo nea. A re : Ke qala ho bona metsi ; ke tsa-
maile haholo. Eaba o nkha mohope, a re : Mohope ona oa nkha.
Eaba sehole Seroalankhoana se re : Joale ke tla u khella ka'ng,
ha u re mohope oa nkha ? A re : Mohope ona o nkha uena, le
bohobe beno kea kholoa boa nkha. Eaba o nka mohope, o o
lahlela thōko mane.

Eaba oa itsamaela, a ea hae. A fihlela banana ba bang, a ba
botsa, a re : Bo-'m'a lōna ba kae, ba e'o 'ngoathela bohobe ? Ea-
ba banana ba re : Ba teng. Eaba o re : Habo Seroalankhoana
ke hokae ? Ba re : Ke lapeng lane. Eaba oa ea. A fihla, a
fumana 'Maseroalankhoana a nts'a sila. A fihla, a re : Mosa-
jana tooe, u ntso u leketlisa matsoejana holim'a leloala moo,
hole sa hao se ntse se roesa-roesa ; ke bolaile mohope oa hao
mane selibeng ; ke utloile ha o nkha ; u tie u ee le 'na ha eso,
ke tla u fa mohope o motle. Mosali eaba oa makala. Eaba oa
tsoa ; a re : 'Na 'nake ? — U re ke 'nake oa tsatsi lefe ; eka mo-
sali u lehlanyana tjee, ere ha u bona batho, u be u se u re ke
bo-'nak'ao. Mosali enoa eaba oa ithōlela.

Eaba o nts'a tsamaea, o nts'a omana. A fihla ka lapeng la
leqhekoana ; a fihla, a re : Lumela, nkhono ; u phehile'ng na
ka lapeng ka mono ? — Ke phehile likhobe, ngoan'a ngoan'a

230 FOLK-TALES

I am hungry and thirsty. She said : I do not know what I can
give you ; the stamped corn has just been put on the fire. —
But you will at least let me have some, and give me a handful
of it. She took one of her skin blankets, spread it on the ground;
she poured the broth of the corn in the water furrow. She then
took the stamped corn and poured all of it into her blanket;
she left only a little. She then bound the blanket in which she
had poured the stamped corn round herself. Then she took the
rest of the stamped corn and put it in a calabash ; she took
water and poured it in the pot. She then took in her hands the
stamped grains which were in the calabash, went out, and said :
I have only taken these, grandmother. The old woman said :
It is well, my child. — They are not yet cooked sufficiently, you
may still remain awhile outside here ; I have put fire under the
pot. She went away.

She met with a man on the way ; she was going on, scattering
the stamped corn. That man asked her, saying : Give me some,
daughter of a chief. She said : If you say I am a chiefs daughter,
whose daughter am I ? The man said : Is it necessary to know
some one to call him a chiefs child ? She went on still scat-
tering the corn. The man said : You are a bad grumbling girl.
She said : What am I doing to be called a bad grumbling girl ?
The man did not answer her, and went on his way.

She arrived at her maternal uncle's. They said : Where do
you come from ? They have been looking for you a long time.
She said : Who were looking for me ? Stupid fellows they are.
They said : It was your father. She remained there at her
maternal uncle's, she remained long. They told her father, her
father came and wanted to beat her. Her maternal uncle would
not allow it. Her father said she should not come home to him.
He returned to his village.

She remained a little while longer at her maternal uncle's,
and then went home. She ran away when the people were
away ; she arrived home and found that the people had gone to
the gardens. She arrived and took a fowl of her parents ; she
returned to her uncle's. Her uncle asked her : Where did you
get that fowl from ? She said her father had invited her to come
and take it. She remained there. They looked for the fowl,
and thought it was lost or had been eaten by wild cats.

She underwent the ceremonies of initiation at her uncle's, being
already a grown up maiden. When she was asked in marriage
she consented. But when she was going to be taken to her hus-
band she refused, saying she did not want to be bound to a
man she did not like. They said : But did you not like him
before ? She said : He was still handsome, to-day he is only a
rag of a man. Her uncle beat her. She said that if he beat her
she would flee away. The cattle of the dowry were sent back.

The Mothemelle 231

ke. A re : Na metsi a teng ka lapeng ka mono, 'mè ? Ke lapile,
ke bile ke nyoruoe. A re : Ha ke tsebe hore na ke tla u ngoa-
thela'ng ? Le likhobe li sa tsoa phehuoa. — U ka mpa ua ntsi-
tsilela li se kaenyana, ua nkokolela seshoainyana. Eaba o nka
kobo e 'ngoe ea hae, o e ala fatše, o fihla a minya kholu koto-
pong. Eaba oa li nka, o li tšollela kaofela kobong ea hae, a
siea li le nyenyane. Eaba o itlamella ka kobo eona eo a tše-
tseng likhobe ho eona. A ba a nka likhobe tse setseng, a li
tšèla mohopeng. Eaba o nka metsi, a a tšèla ka mona ka pi-
tseng. Eaba o nka tsena, tse ka mohopeng, ka matsoho, a tsoela
kantle, a re : Ke ngoathile tsena feela, nkhono. A re : Ke ha-
ntle, ngoan'a ngoan'a ke. — Ha li e-s'o ka li butsoa, u tie u liehe
kantle ka mona ; ke li besitse ka mollo. Eaba oa tsamaea.

A khahlana le monna e mong tseleng, a tsamaea a nts'a
qhala likhobe. Eaba monna oa mo qela, a re : Ak'u mphe ngoan'a
morena. A re : Na ha u re ke ngoan'a morena, ke ngoan'a
mang ? Eaba monna enoa o re : Na motho ho thoe ke ngoan'a
morena ha a tsejoa na ? Eaba oa tsamaea, a nts'a li qhala. Eaba
monna enoa o re : U 'Malibechane oa ngoanana. Eaba o re :
Na ke 'Malibechane a etsa'ng ? Eaba oa ithōlela, oa itsamaela.

A fihla ha malom'ae. Ba re : Na u tsoa kae ha e le khale u ba-
tloa ? A re : Na ke ne ke batloa ke bomang, makako ao ? Eaba
ba re : Ke ntat'ao. Eaba o lula mona ha malom'ae ; a lula ha-
lelele. Eaba ho bolelloa ntat'ae ; eaba ntat'ae oa tla, a re oa
mo otla. Eaba malom'ae oa hana. Ntat'ae a re a se ke a ba a
tla ha hae. Eaba o khutlela ha habo.

A lula-lula matsatsi a se makae ha malom'ae, a ba a s'a ea ha
habo. A thoba batho ba le sieo ; a fihla ha habo, a fumana
ho uoe masimong. Eaba o fihla, a nka khoho eabo ; a boela ha
malom'ae. Malom'ae a fihla, a 'motsa, a re : Na u e nkile kae ?
A re, ntat'ae o na a mo laetse, a re a tie hae ho e nka. Eaba
oa lula. Khoho ea 'na ea batloa, ha thoe ekaba e lahlehile, ka-
pa e jeoe ke litsetse.

A bolla ha malom'ae, a s'a le moholo. Eitse mohla a nya-
loang, a lumela. Eitse mohla a isoang ho monna oa hae, a
hana, a re, ha a rate ho tlamelloa monna eo a sa mo rateng. Ba
re : Na pele u no u sa mo rate na ? A re : O ba a sa le motle,
kajeno e se e le hlahlane feela. Eaba malom'ae o re oa mo
shapa. Eaba o re, leha a ka mo shapa, o'a mpe a itsamaele le
linaha. Eaba ho busetsoa likhomo.

232 FOLK-TALES

She remained at her uncle's, she remained long. On a certain
day the wife of her uncle scolded her and said : You old maid I
She felt hurt and went home ; she remained there. Her father
said : What have you been driven away from your uncle's for ?
She said : My uncle hates me much ; he says I am an old maid.
Then a man wanted to marry her. She consented. Her father
questioned her closely, saying : Do you truly bind yourself to be
married ? She said that she truly consented. She was married ;
when she had to be taken to her husband she said she wanted
a rug of jackal skins. Her father gave it her, and ordered a
tippet of rock rabbit skins to be made for her; it was made for
her. She was taken to her husband. This time she remained
with her husband.

It is the end of the tale.

XXXIV
SOENYANE OABO SOENTSENG

They said there was once a woman who had no children ; she
had only one child, whom her father loved very much. When
her mother came from the gardens he always hastened to
take the child. One day Soenyane oabo Soentseng came and
said to the woman : Let me take care of your child. She took
her, went with her into a donga, and went down along it.
When the woman was about to go home, she asked for Soe-
nyane oabo Soentseng, but found that she was gone. Then
she took a gourd, filled it with water, carried it on her back,
and went home with it.2

Her husband came and wanted to take the child ; the mother
said : She is asleep. He said : Give her to me that I may kiss
her a little, although she is asleep. The mother refused till
it was eveuing. Then they slept. During the night the mother

I Soenyane is probably a cannibal woman, though no explanation is given
us. The episode of a woman leaving her child to the care of people or animals

Soenyane oabo Soentšeng 233

Eaba o nts'a lutse ha malom'ae ; a lula halelele. Eitse ka
mohlomong mohats'a malom'ae a mo omanya, a re : A lefetoa
lena. Eaba e se e le ha a utloa bohloko ; a ea ha habo, a lula
teng. Ntat'ae a re : Na u tebetsoe ke'ng ha malom'ao ? A re :
Malome o ntlhoile haholo, a re ke lefetoa. Eaba monna e mong
o re oa mo nyala. Eaba oa lumela. Ntat'ae a 'motsisisa, a re :
Na ka 'nete ua itlama hore o tla u nyala. Eaba o re, ka 'nete
o tla lumela. Eaba oa nyaloa, a isoa, a re o batla kobo ea pho-
kojoe. Ntat'ae a mo nea, a re a seheloe tipana sa lipela, eaba
oa se seheloa. Eaba oa isoa. Eaba o lula joale ho monna oa
hae.

Ke tšomo ka mathetho.

XXXIV

SOENYANE OABO SOENTSENG

Ba re e ne e re e le mosali a se na bana, a ba le ngoana a le
mong, ntat'ae a mo rata haholo. Ere ha 'm'ae a tsoa masimong,
a be a se a tla mo nka. Eitse ka mohlomong Soenyane oabo
Soentšeng a fihla, a re : Tlisa, ke u nkele ngoana, Eaba oa mo
nka, o theohela le eena lengopeng, eaba o theosa lengope. Mo-
sali eitse ha a s'a ea hae, a botsa Soenyane oabo Soetšeng, a
fumana Soenyane a le sieo. Eaba o nka seho, o se tšela metsi,
a se pepa, a ea le sona hae.

Monna oa hae a tla, a re o tla nka ngoana ; eaba 'm'ae o re :
O robetse. A re : Mphe, ke mo ake hanyenyane, leha a robetse.
Eaba 'm'ae oa hana ; ea ba ea e-ba mantsiboea. Eaba ba robala.
Eare bosiu mosali a tsoa, a siea seho litulong. Eaba monna oa

she does not know is frequent in tales; cf. Raseretsana (No. XLI) and A. Se-
KESE, op. cit. p. 218.

234 FOLK-TALES

went out, leaving the gourd in her bed. The husband felt
with his hands and found that it was but a gourd ; he took it
and threw it outside. When his wife came in, he said : So it
was a gourd you were carrying; go away now and fetch my
child.1

She went; when the sun arose, she found some animals and
said: Oh you animals from far away, have you not seen Soenya-
ne ? They said : Go farther ahead.2 She met with others again,
and spoke as before ; they said : Go farther ahead. She arrived
where there was a large number of animals, and said : Oh >ou
animals from far away, have you not seen Soenyane ? They
came running to her, they drew near, surrounded her and
said : What do you look for ? She said : I am looking for my
child. She has been taken by Soenyane. The animals went
away saying : Stay here, we are going to fetch her for you.

They went ; they arrived at a large pool, and as they found
the child lying outside the pool, they snatched her away. They
went on, throwing her on high; one of them was throwing her
on high, another one was catching her. Soenyane left them
and went back. The animals came to the woman and said :
If you do not go quickly, Soenyane will be coming back. The
woman went; clouds rose up, it was very dark. She went on;
rain began to fall. When there was a flash of lightning she
saw a hut on the plain. She said: I am saved; if there had
not been a flash of lightning I would not have known where to
get into.

She approached and went into the hut. She hid herself behind
some wood. The mistress of the hut came ; she arrived saying :
Oh ! oh ! What is that smell ? what is it that smells like a human
being ? what shall I cook for myself to-day ? What was the
use of me roaming about so much? She went into the hut and
put a pumpkin on the ground. She went out, took some water,
came back and began cutting the pumpkin with her nail.3 As
she was watching her pot the woman went out. The mistress
of the hut said: I see you well, though you are going out ; do
not speak of me on your way, under any circumstances, or I
shall go and stay in the doorway of your hut.4

1 This trick of the woman to hide from her husband the loss of the child is
common too; cf. A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 219, JUNOD, Les Ba-Ronga, p. 315, and
JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 43. In a Hausa story (SCHOEN, op. cit. p. 129) a
woman who is gathering hay puts a bundle of it on her back, thinking it is her
child, and leaves her child in the open country. Iu a Zulu story (CALLAWAY,
op. cit. p. 238) a chief's wife forgets her child on the veldt.

2 Animals which help a man or woman in searching for their child are met

Soenyane oabo Soentseng 235

hae oa phopholetsa, a fumana e le seho ; a se nka, a se lahlela
ntle. Mosali oa hae eitse ha a kena, a re : Anthe u ntso u khi-
tlile seho ; u tsamaee joale ho ea batla ngoan'a ka.

A tsamaea ; eitse ha tsatsi le chaba, a fihlela liphoofolo, a re :
Liphoofolo tse mola, ha lea ka la bona Soenyane ? Eaba li re :
Fetela pele. A boela a khahlana le tse ling, a bua joale ka
pele ; tsa re : Fetela pele. A fihlela liphoofolo moo li leng
ngata, a re : Phoofolo tse mola, ha lea ka la bona Soenyane ?
Tsa tla li mathile ho eena, tsa fihla, tsa mo kopela ka hare, tsa
re : U batla'ng ? A re : Ke batla ngoan'a ka ? Tsa re : O ile
kae ? A re : O nkuoe ke Soenyane. Eaba liphoofolo lia tloha,
li re : Sala mona, re e'o u batlela eena.

Eaba lia tsamaea. Tsa fihla letšeng le leholo, tsa fihla tsa
mo re hloi ! tsa fumana a lutse ka ntle ho letša. Tsa tsamaea
li mo akhela holimo, e 'ngoe e mo akhele holimo, e 'ngoe e mo
kape. Soenyane a ba a khutla. Tsa fihla ho mosali enoa, tsa
re : Ha u sa tsamaee kapele, o nts'a itlela. Mosali a tsamaea ;
maru a nyoloha, a re tšo ! A tsamaea ; pula ea fihla. Eitse ha
letolo le benya, a bona ntlonyana e thotaneng, a re : Ka thuse-
ha, le hojane lehalima le se be teng, nka be ke sa tsebe hobane
ke ea kena kae.

A fihla, a kena ka ntloanyaneng eo. A ipata ka mora' patsi.
Mong a ntlo a fihla, a re : En-en, ho nkha'ng ? ho nkha'ng joale
ka motho ? Ke tla iphehela joang kajeno lena ? ho ntso ho
qiloa-qiloa ho batloa'ng ? Eaba o kena ka tlung, o fihla a bea
mokopu. A tsoela ntle, a nka metsi, a fihla, a seha mokopu ka
lenala. Eitse hojane a nts'a qahama pitseng, eaba mosali enoa
oa tsoa. Eaba o re : Ke ntse ke u bona, leha u e-tsoa ; u tie u
se ke ua ba ua tsamaea u mpolela ; ke tla lula mathuleng a
monyako oa hao.

with in many Bantu tales, thus CALLAWAY, op. cit. pp. 58 and 333, and the Ba-
Suto tale of Molialia (A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 216). In the Hausa tale quoted in
the preceding note we have a similar incident

3 Selomakupu (No. XXXI) has also a long nail with which she skins animals.

4 She means that she will bewitch the woman if she does not keep silent
about what she has seen.

236 FOLK-TALES

The woman went on, arrived, came into her hut. The husband
rejoiced now, when he saw her child. He said : She has now
arrived, my little Nrelinyane.1 So they went on living there;
the child grew up, became a grown-up maiden. She was told
to go and drive the birds from their garden. So she was
driving the birds away for days. On a certain day, in the
early morning when there was much dew, she heard a voice
from the mountain, saying :

Reli oabo Reli, oh! oh!
Come and sweep away the dew for me ;
I am covered with a coat of rat skins,
I am wearing a petticoat of skins of rats,
I am wearing a tippet of field mice skins. 2

Reli went and found that it was a horrid thing ;3 she said :
How horrid you are ! The hag answered : I shall pluck some
bushes and thrash you with them. Now Reli took her on
her back. They arrived at the garden; the hag came and ate
all the food brought by Reli. In the evening she went back
to the mountain and stayed there. Reli went home.

Next morning she went to the gardens; the hag arrived,
shouted out, as yesterday. Reli refused to reply and fled away
home. Her father told her to go back to the fields, or the
kaffir corn would all be eaten by the birds. She said : There
are no sparrows there, they are asleep. Her father said :
There are many tsoere birds there at this hour. She went
back. She found the hag was already there, and had plucked
flexible branches. She beat her with them, saying : 1 am sore,
because my garments are dried up and my tippets have be-
come hard ; take them now, make them supple again, let them
be in proper condition. She made them supple ; the hag said :
Go on making them supple, work with all your might, I am
watching you. She said : I do not know how to work so.
The hag broke a stick and said : If you do not know, you
will learn to-day. The girl refused. So she beat her ; she beat
her till it was evening.

When she arrived home she was quite grayish looking. Her
father said : Why do you look so gray, as if you had been
beaten ? She said : Nobody has beaten me. Her father said :
Tell me. She refused, saying she could not tell what she did
not know. So her father left her. Next morning she went to
the gardens ; she arrived ; drove the birds away. That hag
called her again. She refused. She went down, having plucked

1 Nrelinyane, little Reli, a pet name for the child who was called Reli.

2 Cf. Seetetelane (No. XVI) who was only dressed in mice or rat skins.

Soenyane oabo Soentšeng 237

Mosali a tsamaea, a fihla, a kena ha hae. Monna a thaba
joale ha a bona ngoan'a hae, a re : O fihlile joale Nrelinyane.
Eaba hoa luloa, a ba a ba moholo, eaba ea e-ba moroetsana. Eaba
ho thoe a tšose tšimo eabo. Eaba o ntse a tšosa. Eitse ka mo-
hlomong, e sa le hosasane, phoka e sa le ngata, a utloa thabeng
ho thoe :

Reli oabo Reli oee !

Tlo, u mphutlele phoka !

Kobo ke apara tsa matsoete,

Mose ke tena oa maphoho,

Thari ke apara ea litali.
Eaba Reli oa ea, a fumana e le ntho e tšabehang, a re : A u
tšabeha tjee ! A re : Nka kha tšilabele, ka u fohlaka ka eona.
Eaba Reli oa mo pepa. Ba fihla tsimong eabo ; a fihla, a ja
ho ja ho tlileng le Reli. Eitse mantsiboea a boela thabeng;
a fihla, a lula teng. Reli a ea hae.

Eitse hosasane a tla masimong ; a fihla, a mo hoeletsa joale
ka maobane. Eaba oa hana, o balehela hae. Ntat'ae a re
a khutlele naheng, mabele a qetoa ke linonyana. Eaba o
re : Robele ha li eo, li robetse. Ntat'ae a re : Tsoere li ngata
hona joale moo. Eaba oa boela. A fumana e se e le teng,
a fumana e khile tšilabele e tetemang. Eaba o mo shapa ka
eona ; eaba o re : Ke utloile bohloko, hobane kobo tsa ka li
omeletse, thari tsa ka li fetohile likokotoana ; nka hona joale
tjee, u li suhe, li be li be ntle. A li suha ; a re: U tie u suhe
haholo, u be u 'no u etse liphoofolo, ke lebelle. Eaba o re :
Ha ke li tsebe. Eaba o hula thupa, a re : Ha u sa li tsebe,
u tla be u li tsebe kajeno. Eaba oa hana. Eaba oa mo
shapa ; ea ba ea e-ba mantsiboea, a ntse a mo shapa.

Eitse ha fihla hae, a fihla a re pululuu ! Eaba ntat'ae o re :
Na u moputsoa-putsoa ke'ng, ekang u be u ntse u fshapuoa ?
A re : Ha kea ka ka shapuoa ke motho. Eaba ntat'ae o re :
Mpolelle bo! Eaba oa hana, a re a ke ke a bolela ntho ee a
sa e tsebeng. Eaba ntat'ae oa mo lesela. Eitse hosasane a
ea masimong, a fihla, a 'na a tšosa. Eaba ntho ena ea 'mi-
tsa hape. A hana. Ea theoha e se e ntse e khile kolitšana.

3 It is not explained whether we have here an animal or a human being, or
perhaps, a half human monster.

238 FOLK-TALES

flexible sticks. She arrived and beat her with them. She beat
her till it was evening. In the evening she said : Carry me
on your back and take me home. She carried her on her
back, and brought her to her home.

She went back. Her father said : What is ailing you that
you are becoming so thin ? She says : Nothing ails me. In the
morning her father took an axe, went and hid himself behind
the watcher's hut. Reli came ; the hag arrived and shouted
out to her. Reli refused to go. So the hag came down. When
the father saw her> he began to say : I am running away ... no !
no ! I must be courageous. So he stood up, and with a big
blow on the head threw her to the ground. Then he said : If
you do not go away at once, I am going to kill you. The hag
went away running and saying: What have I eaten alas!
that my head should be quite red with blood, as the carcase
of a big sheep ! So she went away. The father returned home
with the child ; they no more sent her to drive the birds.
It is the end of the tale.

XXXV
KOOMA

They say there was a daughter of a chief; her sister was
opposed to her marrying. She told her companions to cook
bread. They cooked it. Next morning she told the young men
to escort her. Her sister asked : Where are you going ? She
said : I go to find a husband. Many young men and many
maidens were gathered, also many cattle.

They escorted her, they went on, they slept. When they
were already far they rested before a bog. They ate. The
young men told the maidens to go in advance; as for them they
remained at the bog. When the maidens had gone, the young
men took off their clothes and went into the bog; they smeared
themselves with mud. Then they departed, leaving their clothes
there. They went, they came up with the maidens. They said:

Kooma 239

Ea fihla, ea mo shapa ka eona ; ea ba ea e-ba mantsiboea e ntse
e mo shapa. Eitse mantsiboea ea re : Mpepe, u nkise hae.
Eaba oa e pepa ; o fihla, o e bea ka ha eona.

Eaba oa khutla. Ntat'ae a re : Ha u se u bile u ota, u ntse
u jeoa ke'ng ? A re : Ha ke jeoe ke letho. Eitse e sa le ho-
sasa, ntat'ae a nka selepe, a fihla, a ipata pel'a lephephe.
Eaba Reli oa tla ; ea fihla, ea mo hoeletsa. Eaba oa ikha-
nela ; eaba ea theoha. Ntat'ae eitse ha a e bona, a re : Kea
baleha ... ; en-en, e ka khona ke itete sefuba. Eaba oa ema,
a e re hlohong nga ! a ba a e lahla fatse. Eaba o re : Ha
u sa tlohe hona joale tjee, ke ea u bolaela ruri. Eaba ea
tloha, ea matha, e re : Ke be ke jele'ng oee ? hoo hloho e
reng tlere, seka la nku e tona. Eaba ea tsamaea. Eaba
ntat'ae o khutlela hae ; eaba ngoana eno ha a sa tsosa.

Eaba ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXXV

KOOMA

Ba re e ne re e le ngoan'a morena, ngoan'abo a hana ha
a nyaloa. Eaba o re ho thaka tsa hae ba phehe bohobe.
Eaba ba bo pheha. Eitse hosasane a re ho bahlankana ba
mo felehetse. Eaba ngoan'abo o re : U ea kae ? A re : Ke ea
mosemeng. Eaba ho batloa bahlankana ba bangata, le ba-
roetsana ba bangata, le likhomo tse ngata.

Eaba ba mo felehetsa ; ba tsamaea, ba robala Eitse ha ba
se ba le hole, eaba ba phomola pel'a mokhoabo. Eaba ba ja.
Eaba ba re ho baroetsana ba tsamaele pele. Ba sala mokhoa-
bong. Eitse ha baroetsana ba se ba tsamaile, eaba ba hlo-
bola likobo tsa bona, ba ikenya har'a mokhoabo, ba itlotsa
ka seretse hohle. Eaba ba tloha, ba siea likobo hona moo.
Ba tsamaea ; ba fihla ho baroetsana. Eaba ba re : Mahele-

240 FOLK-TALES

Mahelethuma-helethuma ! we are going to eat you.1 Kooma then
said : I shall take an ox of my people, and give it to 'Maneo. 2
They took that ox and gave it to those young men. They
ate it, they finished it.

They came again and said: Mahelethuma-helethuma! we
are going to eat you. Kooma said again: I shall take an ox
of my people and give it to 'Maneo. They went on speaking
so continually. The oxen were finished, only one remained.

Now Kooma changed herself into a clay pot ; all the girls
went into it, as also the ox. The pot rolled on the ground
and hid itself in a bush. Then the Maheiethumas came, they
found there was nobody there; they ran, went on, and missed
them. They returned, went back to the bog. They went back
home, the Maheiethumas. When they reached a brook they
washed themselves. When they arrived home they said : We
have escorted the chief's daughter. The chief said : I thank
you.

Now that pot departed and went on. It arrived at a mountain
covered with white, flat stones. The ox went out, they also
went out. They struck the ox on the horn, bread and meat
came out of it ; they ate.3 They went on on foot. They arrived
at a cave ; it happened that it was at Masilo's cattle post.
They arrived and remained there. Kooma changed herself
into a pot, all of them went into it.

In the afternoon Masilo and his companions arrived, coming
from the veldt. When they arrived they said : What a fine
pot, which has no opening. They said : We are going to
break it. Masilo refused to allow them. They left it, they
slept.

Next morning they rose and went to the veldt. At noon
the pot opened itself, the maidens went out of it, plastered
the huts in the cattle post, ground corn and cooked bread.
At evening Kooma changed herself again into a pot. Masilo
and his companions arrived; they said : The girls of our village
have been here; how well they have done! They came in and
ate bread. They slept.

They rose in the morning. Masilo said: I have my own
doubts, let somebody remain here on the mountain to see the
girls when they come. One remained. He saw when the

1 These young men have become Maheiethumas, probably a kind of were-
wolf. Maheiethumas also appear in the story of Nyopakatala (JAC0TTET, Contes
pop. des Bassoutos, p. III).

2 The answer of Kooma (which, as well as the words spoken by the Maheie-
thumas, was originally a song) is practically incomprehensible. We do not

Kooma 24 1

thuma-helethuma, rea le ja. Eaba Kooma o re : Ke ea nka
khomo ea batho, ke e nee 'Maneo. Eaba ba ea nka khomo,
ba e nea bahlankana bano. Ba e ja, ba e qeta.

Ba fihla hape, ba re : Mahelethuma-helethuma, rea le ja.
Eaba Kooma o boela a re : Ke ea nka khomo ea batho, ke
e nee 'Maneo. Eaba ba tsamaea ; ba ntse ba cho. Khomo
tsa fela. Eaba ho sala khomo e le 'ngoe.

Eaba Kooma o iphetola lefisoana ; eaba baroetsana ba kena
ka teng kaofela le khomo. Eaba le bilikeha, le ipata sehla-
hleng. Eaba a tla mahelethuma, a fumana ho se motho ; a
matha, a ea pele. a ba hloka. Eaba a khutla, a boela mokhoa-
bong. A boela hae mahelethuma. Eitse ha a fihla nōka-
neng, a itlhatsoa. Eaba ba fihla, ba re : Re mo felehelitse
hantle ngoan'a morena. Eaba morena o re : Kea le leboha.

Eaba fisoana joale lea tsamaea, le ea pele. La fihla tha-
beng e matlapa a masoeu. Eaba khomo ea tsoa ; eaba ba
tsoa le bona. Ba otla khomo lenakeng ; ha tsoa bohobe le
nama ; ba e-ja. Ba tsamaea ka maoto. Ba fihla lehaheng ;
athe ke motebong oa likhomo tsa Masilo. Eaba ba fihla, ba
lula teng. Kooma a iphetola lefisoana hape ; ba kena ka
teng kaofela.

Bo-Masilo ba fihla mantsiboea, ha ba tsoa naheng. Ba fi-
hla, ba re : A fisoana le letle le se nang le molomo ! Eaba
ba re: Rea le bolaea. Eaba Masilo oa hana. Eaba ba le
lesela ; ba robala.

Hosasane ba tsoha, ba ea naheng. Eitse motšeare lefisoa-
na la buleha ; batho ba tsoa ka teng, ba lila mona motebong,
ba sila le bohobe, ba pheha. Eitse mantsiboea a boela a
iphetola lefisoana. Ba fihla bo-Masilo, ba re : Banana ba heso
ba ne ba tlile, ba re etselitse hantle hakakang. Eaba ba
fihla ba e-ja bohobe. Ba robala.

Ba tsoha hosasa. Eaba Masilo o re : Kea belaela ; e mong
a ka sala mona thabeng, a tie a bone banana ha ba e-tla.
Eaba ho sala e mong. A bona ba e-tsoa ka lefisoaneng, a

understand who 'Maneo is. It is either taken from another tale or is an indica-
tion that our story was originally somewhat different.

3 In a Kaffir story also (THEAL, op. cit. p. J58) we see the food coming out
of the horns of an ox.

242 FOLK-TALES

maidens came out of the pot, and said : Khele ! what beauti-
ful girls, I am going to marry one of them on the spot. When
he was coming down they saw him ; he found there was nobody
there. He came and turned that pot over and over again,
finding that there was no opening by which people could
come out of it. He wondered. He found that they had ground
corn, but they had not put the pot on the fire.

He departed and went to Masilo in the veldt. He arrived
and said: Oh! oh! I have seen beautiful maidens, if they do
not come out of the pot again I shall kill myself. Masilo
said : Ao ! what are they like ? He said : Oh ! oh ! one of them
is beautiful, she shines like the sun. They brought the cattle
back though it was still noon, thinking they might find the
maidens. But they found nothing. They arrived, sat down
in the cattle post, and found the meal still lying on the mill
stories. They cooked milk porridge with that meal and ate it ;
they slept.

Masilo and his companions went to the veldt next morning ;
Masilo came back half way with a boy. They went and
lay down on the summit of the mountain, they saw a maiden
coming out of the pot. The young man who was with Masilo
said : I am going there. Masilo did not allow him. Then
another maiden came out, all came out. Masilo said : There
is no one who pleases me. The young man said: They are beautiful
maidens, I have never seen any so beautiful. Now Kooma
came out.1 Masilo nearly fainted when he saw Kooma ; he
said : It is the first time I have seen such a beautiful maiden.
Tears came out of the eyes of Masilo, his eyes were full of
them. The young man who was with him took hold of him.

The maidens went to the fountain. When they were at
the fountain Masilo and his companion departed ; they arrived,
stayed there, and hid themselves. That young man took that
pot and hid it away. The maidens came. Kooma said : I am
afraid to enter. They said : What do you fear ? She said :
It is as if there was something there. They urged her, she
entered. As soon as she began to enter Masilo caught her.
They wept, both of them. The maidens dispersed. That young
man also caught the maiden he liked.

Then Masilo entreated Kooma very much ; Kooma kept silent.
She entered the hut and asked where he had put her pot.

I It was said earlier that Kooma had changed herself into a pot ; here, and
further on, it would seem that she had not become one but had simply gone
into it.

Kooma 243

re: Khelele ! a baroetsana ba batle ; ke ea nyaJa e mong hona
mona. Eaba o re oa theoha, ba 'mona, a fumana ho se ho
se motho. Eaba o fihla a re ka phethola lefisoana lena, a
fumana ho se moo batho ba ka tsoang teng. Eaba oa ma-
kala. A fumana hobane ba sitse, empa ha ba e-s'o ka ba
tlhatleha.

Eaba oa tloha, a ea naheng ho Masilo. A fihla, a re : Homme
ke bone baroetsana ba batle ; ha ba ke ke ba tsoa ka lefi-
soaneng ke tla ipolaea. Eaba Masilo o re : Ao, ke ba joang
na ? A re : Homme e mong ke e motle, o benya joale ka letsa-
tsi. Eaba ba orosa likhomo e sa le motšeare, ba re ekaba
ba tla ba fumana. Ba fumana ho se letho. Ba fihla, ba lula
motebong, ba fumana liphofo li ntse li lutse maloaleng mona.
Ba pheha lehala ka phofo ; eaba ba ja, ba robala.

Eaba bo-Masilo ba ea naheng hosasane ; Masilo a khutla
tseleng le moshanyana e mong. Ba fihla, ba paqama qhooa-
neng ; ba bona ho e-tsoa moroetsana e mong. Eaba mohla-
nkana enoa ea nang le Masilo o re : Kea tloha. Eaba Masilo
oa mo hanela. Eaba ho tsoa e mong moroetsana ; ba tsoa
kaofela. Eaba xMasilo o re : 'Na ha a eo ea nkhahlang. Ea-
ba mohlankana o re : Ke baroetsana ba batle ka mokhoa 00
ke e-s'o ka ke o bona. Ha tsoa Kooma. Masilo a batla a
oela ha a bona Kooma, a re : Ke qala ho bona moroetsana e
motle hakalo. Eaba Masilo o tsoa mookho, o thibana ma-
hlong. Eaba enoa ea lutseng le eena oa mo tšoara.

Eaba baroetsana ba ea selibeng. Eitse ha ba ile selibeng
bo-Masilo ba tloha, ba fihla, ba lula mona, ba ipata. Eaba
mohlankana eno o nka lefisoana, oa le hata. Ba tla baroe-
tsana. Eaba Kooma o re : 'Na kea tšaba ho kena ka mona.
Ba re : Na u tšaba'ng ? A re : Eka hojane ntho e 'ngoe e le
teng. Eaba ba mo rapela ; a kena. Eitse ha a qala ho kena,
Masilo a mo tšoara. Ba 11a ba babeli. Baroetsana ba qha-
lana. Eaba mohlankana eno le eena o tsoara eo a mo ratang.

Eaba Masilo o rapela Kooma haholo ; eaba Kooma oa thōla.
O kena ka tlung ; eaba o re, na lefisoana la hae o le beile

244 FOLK-TALES

Masilo said : I have broken it, my sister. She was silent.
Masilo went with that young man to gather branches to build
a hut for himself alone. He said: Here is my hut, tell the
young men when they come that no one must enter it. He put
his wife in it ; the maidens remained in the court grinding.

The young men came back at evening; they arrived, they
apportioned those girls among themselves, each one took the
one he liked. The young men asked: Which one has the
chief taken ? That young man said : He has taken none of them,
he said he did not like them, he said he wanted a shining one.
They were silent ; they slept. Next morning Masilo sent a mes-
senger home, saying : Tell my mother to prepare the floor of my
hut. He went, arrived and told 'Mamasilo. The women smeared
the floor of the hut. The young man came back and told Masilo
that his father said that the cattle must come back soon.

Next morning when they arose they departed. Masilo said :
You, all my people, go in front; I shall follow alone. They
departed with the cattle. When they were already far, he
departed with his wife. They went on ; the sun set when they
were still away. They went on. The young men arrived home ;
their mothers rejoiced when they saw them coming with their
wives. They said : Our boys are wise, they come back having
found wives for themselves. Then Masilo arrived when it was
already dark; he arrived at his hut, and made his wife enter
it. He went to his mother's to take bread, he ate it with his
wife. They slept.

In the morning he arose and covered his wife with mats. He
went to his mother, and said : Soak some kafhr corn. They
soaked it, it fermented, it was spread out to dry ; they ground
it, they brewed beer, they prepared a big feast. All the people
were told to come. They arrived and sat down outside the
court of Masilo's mother, leaving a road in the middle. Mats
were then spread as far as where the people were assembled ;
jackal skins were put where the bride was to sit. Now Thakane
came out of Masilo's mother's court, Masilo's wife then came out,
the sun was darkened; then came out the wife of Masilo's
father, they followed one another. The people wondered ; they
said : We have never seen anyone like this maiden. She arrived
and sat down on the jackal skins. The men who were busy flaying
the oxen left them, they came running there.

She went back into the courtyard. The beer was drunk,
then the people dispersed. She remained there, Masilo's wife.
She became pregnant, and had a child; his name was Bulane.
All these girls had children. When the children were already
big, their fathers took oxen ; Masilo himself took forty oxen.
They went, not knowing exactly where to go. They went on,
asking their way ; at last they arrived at Kooma's village.

Kooma 245

kae. Eaba Masilo o re : Ke le bolaile, ngoan'eso. Eaba oa
thōla. Eaba Masilo o kha mahlaku le mohlankana eno ho
etsa ntlo ea hae e 'notši. A re: Ka raona, ka ha ka, u ke u
joetse bahlankana ha ba e-tla, hore ho se ke ha e-ba motho
ea tlang ka teng. Eaba o kenya mosali oa hae ka teng ; ba-
roetsana bona ba lula lapeng mona, ba sila.

Eaba bahlankana ba oroha mantsiboea ; ba fihla, ba ikaba
ka basali ba bona, e mong le e mong a nka eo a mo ratang.
Eaba ba re : Na morena eena o nkile riiang ? Eaba mohla-
nkana enoa o re: Ha a eo eo a mo nkileng ; o itse ha a ba
rate, o re o batla a khanyang. Eaba ba thōla; ba robala.
Hosasane Masilo a romela e mong hae : U re ho 'mè a lile
ntlo ea ka. Eaba oa ea, a fihla, a joetsa 'Mamasilo. Eaba
basali ba e lila. Eaba mohlankana oa khutla, o fihla a joe-
tsa Masilo hore ntat'ae o itse, khomo li koebe kapele.

Hosasane ha ba tsoha, ba theoha. Eaba o re : Lōna batho
kaofela, le etelle pele ; ke tla tla kamorao ke 'notši. Eaba
ba tsanaea le likhomo. Eitse ha ba se ba le hole, a tloha le
mosali oa hae. Ba tsamaea ; tsatsi la ba la ba likella ba sa
le hole. Eaba ba ntse ba tsamaea. Batho bano ba fihla hae ;
bo-'m'a bona ba thaba ha ba ba bona ba e-tla le basali, ba
re : Bashanyana ba rōna ba bohlale, ba tla ba itholetse basali.
Eaba Masilo o fihla, e se e le ka phirimana ; o fihlela ka ha
hae, o fihla a kenya mosali oa hae ka tlung. A ea nka bo-
hobe ka habo ; ba e-ja le mosali oa hae. Eaba ba robala.

Hosasane a tsoha, a katisa mosali oa hae ka meseme. Eaba
o ea ho 'm'ae, a re : Le inele mabele a mangate. Eaba a
ineloa, a bipuoa, a aneoa ; eaba hoa siloa, hoa riteloa, ho
etsoa mokete o moholo. Ho thoe batho ba tie kaofela. Eaba
ba fihla, ba lula kantle habo Masilo, ba siea tsela. Eaba
ho aloa meseme ho ea fihla moo batho ba leng bangata ;
hape ha beoa liphokojoe moo a ea lula teng. Eaba ho tsoa
Thakane ka lapeng ha Masilo; ha tsoa mosali oa Masilo,
tsatsi la re fi ; eaba ho tsoa mosali oa ntat'a Masilo, ba ko-
loka. Batho ba tsota, ba re : Ha re e-so ho bone motho ea
tjee ka ngoan'enoa. A ba a fihla, a lula holim'a liphokojoe.
Ba neng ba bua likhomo ba li tlohela, ba tla ba mathile
mona.

Eaba o boela ka lapeng. Eaba ho nooa majoala ; eaba
hoa qhalanoa. Eaba o lutse mohats'a Masilo. Eaba e ba
moimana, a ba a ba le ngoana ; lebitso la hae ea e-ba Bula-
ne. Kaofela ba e-ba le bana. Eitse ha ba se ba le bahoio,
bo-ntat'a bona ba nka likhomo ; Masilo eena a nka tse
mashome a mararo. Ba tsamaea, ba sa tsebe le moo ba eang
teng. Ba tsamaea ba botsa, ba ba ba fihla ha habo.

246 FOLK-TALES

They arrived and sat outside the hut of Kooma's mother.
Kooma's child entered the courtyard ; she found that porridge
had been cooked ; she said : Grandmother, give me some por-
ridge. His grandmother took some hot porridge from the pot,
and gave it to him ; the child went out, running and crying.
Kooma said : Mother, why do you burn my child ? Her mother
went out running, and said : Alas ! I have burned my grand-
child.1 She dug some medicine, and rubbed him with it. She
then called Kooma's father and told him it was his child.

Now they cut their hair. Kooma was then married ; all the
girls were then married. They remained there a long time;
then they returned to their husbands' village. All the young
men who had escorted them were killed. They arrived at
Masilo's village.

It is the end of the tale.

XXXVI

POLO AND KHOAHLAKHUBELU. 2

They say there were two girls called Khoahlakhubelu and
Pōlō. 'Makhoahlakhubelu alone had children; she used to
kill the children of 'Mapōlō. At last 'Mapōlō went to her
parents, when she was in child with Pōlō, she went there to
be delivered of her. After she was born she was put into
an iguana's skin (it is a snake which lives in the water);3
she grew up in it. She grew up ; when she began to walk
she was put into a larger skin. Her mother went back
home, and left Pōlō with her grandparents. She went on

1 The same episode is found in A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 217.

2 I possess two other versions of this tale, with very few variations. An-
other version is given by A. Sekese (op. cit. p. 223). In his version the elder sister
is called Tsokulefubelu, red ochre ; in another Se-Suto version she is called Ma-
li lomafubelu, red eyes. The name Khoahlakhubelu she bears in our version means

Polo and Khoahlakhubelu 247

Ba fihla, ba lula kantle habo Kooma. Eaba ngoan'a Koo-
ma o ea ka lapeng, a fumana ho phehuoe motoho, a re:
Nkhono, mphe motoho. Eaba nkhono'ae o ngoatha motoho
ifo o nts'o chesa, eaba o mo nea oona ; ngoana a tsoa, a
matha a 11a. Eaba Kooma o re : 'Mè, u chesetsa'ng ngoan'a
ka ? Eaba 'm'ae o tsoa a matha, a re : Jo ! ka chesa ngoan'a
ngoan'a ke. A cheka sehlare, a mo tlotsa ka sona ; eaba o
bitsa ntat'a Kooma, a mo joetsa hobane ke bana ba hae.

Eaba ba kuta lihlotho. Eaba oa nyaloa ; kaofela ba nyaloa
joale. Ba lula motsotso o molelele ha habo ; ba khutlela
koana moo ba nyetsoeng. Bahlankana ba ile ba bolaoa kao-
fela ba neng ba ba felehelitse. Ba ba ba fihla habo Masilo.

Joale ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXXVI
POLO LE KHOAHLAKHUBELU

Bare e ne e le Khoahlakhubelu le Pōlō, 'Makhoahlakhubelu
eena a na le bana, a 'na a bolaela 'Mapōlō bana, ho fihlela 'Ma-
polo a ea habo, ha e le moimana oa Pōlō, a ea 'melehela habo.
Eitse hobane a hlahe, a kenngoa letlalong la pōlō (e leng noha
e tsamaeang metsing), a holela ka ho lona, A hola ; eare ha a
isamaea, a kenngoa ho le leng le leholoanyane. 'M'ae a khu-
tlela ha habo, a mo siea habo moholo ; eaba o nts'a holela habo
moholo, ho fihlela eba e ba moroetsana, a ba a bolotsoa habo
moholo.

red dry maize. The Zulu tale of Umamba (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 321) is to be
compared to it ; but there it is a man, not a girl, who is put into a serpent's skin
<cf. also ibid. p. 68, where the same is said of Umhlatu).

3 Pōlō is a kind of iguana unknown in Basutoland, and believed by the Ba-
Suto to be a species of snake.

248 FOLK-TALES

growing at her grandarents' till she was a maiden ; at her
grandparents' she underwent the ceremonies of initiation.

One day Masilo came in quest of a wife. He arrived at
Khoahlakhubelu's father's ; he said : I have come to look for
a wife. The chief gathered his children, he gathered them
all that Masilo might choose the one he liked. Next morning
'Mapōlo went to fetch Pōlō ; she came with the people of
her grandparents ; they formed but a little company. They
departed and went to Masilo's.1

The company of Khoahlakhubelu refused to walk with the
company of Pōlō ; they said : As for us, we do not walk
with a serpent. When the larger company was walking as if
it were yonder at our village, the smaller company was
walking as if it were here, they did not join together. Ma-
silo was sitting on the mountain. When the girls arrived
near a brook, they said : Let us go to the brook and undress
that we may bathe. The larger company bathed by itself,
the smaller company bathed by itself. When they departed
they went on, Masilo still watching them; they went on and
arrived at a brook just below the mountain where Masilo
was sitting.

Masilo was looking on ; he said : Those people of the
smaller company are escorting a black person in their midst.
He said : I shall watch those people to see what it is that
that person is dressed in. They arrived at the brook and
undressed. When Pōlō undressed, Masilo said : What a beauti-
ful girl ! that one is my wife. He spoke so when they
were taking her out of the skin of the iguana which cover-
ed her. When they clothed her with it, he said : Alas ! they
spoil my wife now when they clothe her in that horrid
thing. The girls went up, they went on, they went on till
they arrived at the village.

They arrived at Masilo's. The people said : What a beauti-
ful girl! They sat down. There also they did not join.
One company, Khoahlakhubelu's, sat apart ; Polo's company
sat by themselves. Masilo arrived, he said : Good day. They
said : Good day. He sat down by Khoahlakhubelu's people ;
he said : Khoahlakhubelu, give me snuff. She poured out
some tobacco. He took a pinch and snuffed. He departed
and went to Polo's company. The others said : Oh ! oh ! he
goes to the company of the serpent, let us laugh. They

I The two girls go to Masilo's, accompanied by their attendants. They form
two distinct companies.

Polo and Khoahlakhubelu 249

Eitse ka tsatsi le leng Masilo a tla, a nts'a batla basali. Eaba
o fihla ha ntat'a Khoahlakhubelu, a re : Ke tlile ho batla basali.
A bokella bana ba hae, a ba bokella kaofela hore Masilo a
ikhethele eo a mo ratang. Eitse hosasane 'Mapōlō a ea lata
Pōlō ; a tla le babo moholo e le letšoejana le lenyenyane. Ba
theoha, ba ea ha Masilo.

Tšoele la Khoahlakhubelu la nana ho tsamaea le letsoele la
Pōlō, la re : Rōna ha re tsamaee le noha. Ere ha letsoele le
leholo le tsamaea joale ka mane ha eso, le lenyenyane le tsa-
maea joale ka mona, ba sa kopane hammoho. Masilo he o
lutse thabeng. Eare ha ba fihla nōkaneng : Ha re eeng nōka-
neng, re hlobole, re e'o tola. Tšoele le leholo la itlhatsoa le
'notsi, tsoele le lenyenyane la itlhatsoa le 'notši. Eare ha ba
tloha, ba tsamaea, Masilo a nts'a ba lebeletse ; ba tsamaea,
ba fihla nōkaneng e ka tlas'a thaba eo Masilo a leng ho eona.

Masilo a 'na a talima, a re : Batho baa ba letsoele le lenyenya-
ne ba tsamaisa motho e motšo ea ka hare ho bona. A re : Ke tla
lebella batho bale hore na ntho eo a e apereng ke'ng? Ba fihla
nōkaneng, ba hlobola. Eitse ha Pōlō a hlobola, Masilo a re :
A motho e motle! mosali oa ka ke eena eno, ha ba mo hlobolisa
letlalo la pōlō lee a le apereng. Eitse ha ba mo apesa lona, a
re: Jo! mosali oa ka, ba mo senya joale, ba mo apesa ntho e
mpe eno. Ba nyoloha, ba tsamaea, ba tsamaea ho ea fihla hae.

Ba fihla habo Masilo, ba re : Malume ka ngoana e motle. Ba
lula. Le teng ha ba kopane. Bano ba lula thōko, ba Khoahla-
khubelu; ba Pōlō ba lula ba 'notsi. Masilo a fihla ; a fihla, a
re: Lumelang. Ba re: E. A lula ho bona ba Khoahlakhubelu,
a re: Khoahlakhubelu, tsufela. A qhatsa koae. Masilo atsipa,
a tsuba. A tloha, a ea tšoeleng la Pōlō. Ba re : Jo ! o ea tšoe-
leng la noha ; ha re tšeheng. Ba tšeha. A lula, a re : Tsufela,
Pōlō. A qhatsa koae ; a tsipa, a tsuba. Ba re : Jo 'na ! o tsipile
tsohong la noha. Masilo a re : Ke motho oa morena le eena.

250 FOLK-TALES

laughed. He sat down and said : Give me snuff, Pōlō. She
poured out some tobacco, he took a pinch and snuffed. The
others said: Oh! oh! he has taken a pinch form the hand
of the serpent. Masilo said : She is a chief's daughter also.

Masilo departed, and went into his mother, 'Mamasilo's
courtyard. He said : Take a big pot and bring it to the
company of the serpent ; take a smaller pot and bring it to
the company of Khoahlakhubelu. His mother did so. Masilo
went out having fastened a spoon of iron to his cloak. He
arrived and sat down by Khoahlakhubelu's company ; he took
a handful of food and ate. He left and went to Polo's
company. The others said : Oh ! oh ! how can he eat with a
serpent ? He loosened his spoon, took some food and ate.
He said : Pōlō, take some food and eat. Pōlō took some
and ate. The others said : Oh ! oh ! Masilo eats with the
serpent ; let us laugh. They laughed.

He departed and went to his mother's courtyard. He said :
Take a pot of strong beer, and bring it to Khoahlakhube-
lu's company. His mother took it and brought it. Presently
he said to his servants : Take a hamel and slaughter it for
Polo's company. They took it and slaughtered it there.
Khoahlakhubelu's company said : Oo ! they slaughter a large
sheep for the company of the serpent. Masilo said : She is
a chief's daughter; I give her food. He said to his servants:
Take a ewe and slaughter it for Khoahlakhubelu's company.
Khoahlakhubelu was the superior; though she was only gi-
ven a small sheep, she was the superior. Pōlō, though she
was given a large sheep, was Khoahlakhubelu's inferior.1

The sun set. He said : Khoahlakhubelu's people will
sleep at 'Mamasilo's, Polo's people will sleep at my hut, at
Masilo. They did so. At night Masilo went to Khoahlakhu-
belu's hut, he stayed there a short time, and went out. He
went to Polo's company. He arrived, sat down, and said :
Take away from this girl the thing which covers her. They
refused, saying : No, it is her own body. He denied, he
said : Oho ! I pray you take it away. They refused. He
insisted much, he said! Oho! I pray you, take that skin
away from this girl.

They said : Masilo, if you are strong enough, come and
take that skin away ; as for us, we cannot do it, because it
is the skin in which she was born. He prayed them, he
prayed them, till at last they consented. Then they took the

I Of two brothers or sisters the elder is called chief of the younger, who is
called his or her servant or subject.

Polo a nd Khoahlakhubelu 251

A tloha Masilo, a ea ka lapeng habo, ha 'Mamasilo. A re :
Le ntše lefiso le leholo, le le ise tšoeleng la noha ; le ntse lefiso
le lekaneng, le le ise tšoeleng la Khoahlakhubelu. Eaba 'm'ae
o etsa joalo. A tloha Masilo a hoketse mpshane ea tsepe mora
kobong ea hae. A fihla, a lula tšoeleng la Khoahlakhubelu, a
ngoatha, a ja. A tloha, a ea tšoeleng la Pōlō. Ba re : Jo ! o ea
ja joang le noha ? A lokolla mpshane ea hae, a ngoatha, a ja.
A re : Pōlō, nka, u ngoathe, u je. Pōlō a nka, a ngoatha, a ja.
Ba re : Jo ! Masilo o ja le noha ; ha re tšeheng. Ba tšeha.

A tloha, a ea habo lapeng ; a re : Le ntše lefiso la joala, le le
ise tšoeleng la Khoahlakhubelu. 'M'ae a le nka, a le isa. A
re: U ntše lefiso la joala, u le ise tšoeleng la Pōlō. 'M'ae a le
isa. Eaba o ea ho bahlanka ba hae, a re : Le tšoare nku ea
khatala, le e hlabele tšoeleng la Pōlō. Ba e nka, ba e hlaba
teng. Tšoele la Khoahlakhubelu la re : Oo ! ho hlabeloa nku
e kholo tšoeleng la noha. Masilo a re : Ke motho oa morena,
kea mo fepa. A re ho bahlanka : Le tšoare nku e tšehali, le e
hlabele tšoeleng la Khoahlakhubelu. Khoahlakhubelu ke mo-
rena; leha a neiloe e nyenyane ke morena. Pōlō leha a neiloe
nku e kholo ke mohlanka oa Khoahlakhubelu.

Tsatsi la likela. Are: Ba Khoahlakhubelu ba ea robala ha
'Mamasilo, ba Pōlō ba ea robala ha ka, ha Masilo. Eaba ba
etsa joalo. Ka phirimana Masilo a kena ka ha Khoahlakhu-
belu ; a lula motsotsonyana o se mokae, a tsoa. A ea tšoeleng
la Pōlō ; a fihla, a lula, a re : A le ke le hloboliseng motho enoa
ntho ee a e apereng. Ba nana, ba re : En-en, ke 'mele oa hae.
A hana, a re : Oho ! kea le rapela, ke re le mo hloboliseng. Ba
hana. A ba phehella ka matla, a re: Oho! kea le rapela, le
hloboliseng motho enoa.

Eaba ba re : Masilo, ha u na le matla, tlo u bue letlalo leo ;
rōna rea sitoa, hobane ke letlalo leo a hlahileng ka lona. Eaba
oa ba rapela, oa ba rapela, ho fihlela ba ba ba lumela. Eaba
he ba mo hlobolisa. Masilo a re : A mosali oa ka e motle ! A

252 FOLK-TALES

skin away. Masilo said : How beautiful my wife is ! He
said : This is my wife. They took that skin and wanted to
cover her with it. Masilo took it, tore it, and threw it into
the fire ; it was burned. He stayed with them all the night,
till the night cleared off.

When the night had cleared off, Masilo went out, he went to
his mother's. He arrived and said : Mother, take mats, spread
them on the ground till they arrive at my hut. Cattle were
slaughtered, a big feast was prepared. His mother did so with
the mats, she spread them till they reached as far as Masilo's
hut. Khoahlakhubelu began to be sad. The people said :
What is it that is going to appear ?

Masilo gave the order that all the young men should take
their shields, and that they should arrange the plumes of ostrich
feathers on their shields.1 The young men did so. He said
that some should stand on this side, others on that side, in two
ranks, so that the shields should join, and told them to stand at
the door of Masilo's hut. The young men did so ; they stood
at the door of Masilo's hut, wondering what was about to appear.

He said : Pōlō, come out. She went out. As she came out
the sun was darkened ; they struck the ground with a brass
collar, the sun shone again. Pōlō entered under the shields ;
they made an awning over her so that the sun should not burn
her. They made towards the courtyard of Masilo's mother. All
the people were saying : Come and see Masilo's beautiful wife.

Khoahlakhubelu was very sad, she cried, she wept aloud.
Masilo said : Hallo ! hallo ! you are also my wife. It was on
this day that Khoahlakhubelu began to know that Pōlō was
a real human being. All the people knew on that day that
she was a human being. A big feast was made, there were
rejoicings. They slept. Next morning Masilo rose and arran-
ged cattle sufficient for two marriages to be taken to Ra-
khoahlakhubelu. Masilo said that Pōlō should not be shone
upon by the sun, that she was to go under the shade of the
shields. They went to her parents' village to marry her ;
they went to take the cattle there.

When they appeared, they appeared as a large company,
they appeared with cattle ; there was a great sound of peo-
ple walking. 'Mapōlō came out ; she stood and cried : Alas !
they have killed my serpent, they have killed it with sand.
Where shall I see my serpent again ? They arrived. Pōlō went

I The mokhele is a plume made out of ostrich feathers fixed on a spear ; this
plume is the necessary ornament of the shield.

Polo and Khoahlakhubelu 253

re : Mosali oa ka ke enoa. Ba nka letlalo lena, ba re ba mo
apesa. Masilo a le nka, a le hahola, a le akhela mollong, la
e-cha. A lula bosiu bohle, ho fihlela bosiu bo e-sa.

Eitse ha bosiu bo e-sa a tsoa Masilo, a ea ka habo Masilo, a
fihla, a re : 'Mè, u nke meseme, u e ale, e be e e'o kena ha Ma-
silo. Ha hlajoa likhomo, ha etsoa mokete o moholo. 'M'ae a
e etsa joalo meseme, a e ala ; ea ba ea ea kena ha Masilo. Khoa-
hlakhubelu a qala ho soaba. Ba re : Ntho e ea hlaha ke'ng ?

A laela bahlankana hore ba nke lithebe kaofela, ba ee ba
hlomele mekhele lithebeng tsa bona. Bahlankana ba etsa joalo.
A re ba bang ba erne ka 'nga ena, ba bang ba erne ka 'nga ena,
ba etse mela, lithebe li tie ho kopana, li e'o ema monyako oa
ntlo ea Masilo. Eaba bahlankana ba etsa joalo, ba ema mo-
nyako oantlo ea Masilo, ba maketse hore ntho e tla hlaha ke'ng.

A re : Pōlō, tsoa. Eaba oa tsoa. Eitse ha a tsoela ntle tsatsi
la fifala; ha otloa lepetu fatše, letsatsi la chaba. Pōlō a kena
ka tlas'a lithebe, ba mo haheletsa, letsatsi le se ke la mo chesa.
Ba tsamaea ho ea habo Masilo lapeng. Batho ea 'na ea e-ba :
Hlahang, le bone mosali e motle oa Masilo.

Khoahlakhubelu a itela, a 11a, a bokolla. Masilo a re : Che bo !
u ntse u le mosali oa ka le uena. Ke tsatsi leo Khoahlakhubelu
a qalang ho tseba hobane Pōlō e ntse e le motho ; kaofela ba-
tho ba mo tseba hobane ke motho. Eaba ho etsoa he mokete
o moholo, ea e-ba thabo ; ba robala. Eitse hosasane Masilo a
tsoha, a lokisa likhomo tse lekanang manyalo a mabeli, tse
eang ha Rakhoahlakhubelu. Eaba Masilo o re, a se ke a ba a
chabeloa ke letsatsi Pōlō, a kene tlas'a lithebe. Ba ea habo, ba
ea nyala, ba ea hlahlela.

Eitse ha ba hlaha, ba hlaha e le tšoele le leholo, le hlaha ka
likhomo, e le qilikoe e kholo ea batho. 'Mapōlō a tsoela kantle,
a ema, a re : Jo ! noha ea ka ba e bolaile, ba e tšeletse ka lehla-
bathe ; ke tla e bona kae noha ea ka ? Ba fihla. Pōlō a ea ka
habo ; a fihla hae, ho bokanoe ka khotla ha Rakhoahlakhubelu.

254 FOLK-TALES

to her mother's ; she arrived home ; all the people of Rakhoa-
hlakhubelu were gathered in the men's court. Masilo gave in
all the cattle of the dowry of Khoahlakhubelu, and of the dowry
of Pōlō. He married both of them.

It was then that the people of Rakhoahlakhubelu's village
began to know that 'Mapōlō had a child. The marriage was
celebrated, the marriage cattle were slaughtered, everything was
done. They returned home. Khoahlakhubelu became the ser-
vant of Pōlō.

It is the end of the tale.

XXXVII

LITOKOTOKO

There was a little child called Litokotoko. Her mother had
had many children ; but they died, being killed by their grand-
mother. After a time that woman again gave birth to a child,
a girl ; she was born with hands and feet. One day, the mo-
ther said to the grandmother : Stay here with my child ; I go to
the fountain. She went ; the grandmother remained with the
child. When she was alone, she took a knife, and cut off the
hands and feet of that child. She went and hid them in her
hut. When she saw the mother of the child coming from the
fountain, she also came back.

The mother of the child arrived and put her pitcher down.
The child cried. The grandmother went to her and said : Oh !
who has taken away the hands and feet of my grandchild ? The
mother asked : What has happened to my child ? I told you to
stay with her. Who has taken away her hands and feet ? The
grandmother said : I do not know. The mother asked : Who
has cut off the hands and the feet of my child ? I told you to stay

I In a Kaffir story (THEAL, op. cit. p. 69) which resembles ours in many ways,
a little boy called Simbiikiimbukwana is born without arms and legs. His sister,
who has been driven away from home by her father, comes to him when the

Litokotoko 25 5

A hlahlela likhomo Masilo tsa bohali ba Khoahlakhubelu le tsa
bohali ba Pōlō. A ba nyala ba babeli.

Batho ba motse oa Rakhoahlakhubelu ke mohla ba tsebang
hobane 'Mapōlō o nts'a na le ngoana. Ha nyaloa. Boa khao-
ha he bohali, boa hlabisa, boa qeta. Ba khutlela habo. Khoa-
hlakhubelu ea e-ba mohlanka oa Pōlō.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXXVII

LITOKOTOKO

Ba re e ne e le Litokotoko, 'm'ae a na a belehe bana, ba shoef
ba ntse ba bolaoa ke nkhono'a bona. Eitse mohlomong mosali
enoa a beleha ngoana e le ngoanana, a hlaha a nts'a e-na le ma-
tsoho le maoto. 'M'ae a re ho nkhono'ae : Tlo u sale le ngoana
mona ; ke sa ea selibeng. Eaba oa ea, nkhono'ae a sala mona
le ngoana. Mosali enoa a sala a nka thipa, a ba a khaola
ngoana enoa maoto le matsoho, a ea a pata ha hae. Eitse ha
a bona 'm'a ngoana a e-tla a tsoa selibeng, le eena a tla.

'M'a ngoana a fihla, a rola nkho. Ngoana a 11a. Nkhono'a
hae a tloha a ea mane, a re: He! ngoan'a ngoan'a ke o jeloe
ke'ng maoto le matsoho ? 'M'ae a re : Ngoana o salile a jeoa
ke'ng ? ke itse u sale le eena ; o jeloe ke'ng maoto le matsoho ?
Nkhono'ae a re : Ha ke tsebe. 'M'a ngoana : Ngoan'a ka o
khaotsoe ke'ng maoto le matsoho ? Ke itse u sale le eena. Eaba
oa bokolla. Joale batho ba tla, ba fihla, ba boha ngoana eno,

parents are away, and causes arms and legs to grow on him ; at night she goes
away and the boy's arms and legs disappear.

256 FOLK-TALES

with her. Then she wept. The people came, saw the child,
and wondered who could have cut off her hands and feet.

That child grew up, having neither hands nor feet, till she
was a grown-up girl ; she used to lie on the ground. One day
the people went to the gardens. Her grandmother said : Lito-
kotoko, my grandchild, why do you not give me food ? Litoko-
toko said : Grandmother, how can I give you food, since I have
neither feet nor hands ? Her grandmother said : If I give you
hands and feet, will you give me some food? She answered:
Yes, grandmother ; I shall give you some food if you give me
hands and feet.

She, the grandmother, brought them, the feet and the hands ;
she put them in, she put them in, she put them in, she put them
in. Litokotoko stood up and walked, and gave her food. Li-
tokotoko took a pitcher and went to the fountain, she put the
millstone straight, and ground the grain, the people being still
in the gardens. Then she cooked the porridge, stirred it, swept
the floor, removed the ashes.

When the people were coming back in the evening, her grand-
mother took back her hands and feet, and went to hide them
in her hut. Litokotoko remained, lying on the ground. Her
mother asked her : Litokotoko, who has been sweeping here ?
She said : It was grandmother. Her mother was silent ; she
went to sleep.

Next morning they went to the gardens. The grandmother
said : Litokotoko ? She answered : Grandmother ? She said : Are
you not going to give me food ? She answered : Since I have
neither hands nor feet, grandmother, how can I give you food ?
— Shall I lend you feet and hands ? She said : Yes, grandmother.
She lent them to her. Litokotoko gave her food ; the grand-
mother ate it, she ate it, she ate it. Litokotoko took a pitcher,
went to the fountain, swept the floor, removed the ashes.

Litokotoko said to herself : This time, to-day, grandmother
shall not take back my hands and feet again. The grandmo-
ther vainly called : Litokotoko ! Litokotoko ! The girl remained
silent and answered not, till the working companies came back
from the gardens. When her father arrived, Litokotoko showed
herself, having her hands and feet. The father wondered. The
mother arrived and wondered too.

Her father asked her : Litokotoko, where did you get your
feet and hands from ? She said : I got them from grandmother.
When the people were gone to the gardens, grandmother used
to call me and tell me to give her food. I used to answer grand-
mother: Since I have neither hands nor feet, how can I give
you food ? Then grandmother used to give me these hands and
these feet. Then I give her food, I grind grain, I sweep the
floor, I remove the ashes, I go to the fountain. When the work-

Litokotoko 257

ba makala hore na ngoana o khaotsoe ke'ng maoto le matsoho.

Ngoana enoa a hola a hloka maoto le matsoho, ho fihlela eba
e ba moroetsana, a 'ne a robatsoe fatše. Ka tsatsi le leng ha
uoa masimong. Nkhono'ae a re : Litokotoko, ngoan'a ngoan'a
ke, ha u mphe ka ja ? Litokotoko a re : Nkhono, ke tla u fa
joang ke se na maoto, ke se na matsoho? Nkhono'ae a re : Ha
nka u nea maoto le matsoho, u tla mpha ? A re : E, nkhono, ke
tla u fa, ha u 'nea maoto le matsoho.

A a tlisa, nkhono'ae, maoto le matsoho, a mo kenya, a mo
kenya, a mo kenya, a mo kenya. Litokotoko a ema, atsamaea,
a mo fa lijo. Litokotoko a nke nkho, a ee selibeng ; a tsehetse
leloala, a sile, ho sa uoe masimong. A be a apehe, a soke, a
fiele, a ole molora.

Ere ha ba e-tla mantsiboea, nkhono'ae a nke maoto le matso-
ho, a e'o a pata ha hae. Litokotoko a sale a lutse fela. 'M'ae
a re : Litokotoko, ea neng a ntse a fiela moo ke mang ? A re :
Ke nkhono. 'M'ae a khutse, a robale.

Eare hosasane ha uoa masimong. Nkhono'ae a re : Litoko-
toko. Are: Nkhono? Are: Ha u mphe ka ja? A re: Ha ke
se na maoto le matsoho, nkhono, ke tla u fa joang ? — Ke u
alime maoto le matsoho ? A re : E, nkhono. A mo alima. Li-
tokotoko a mo fe lijo, a li je, a li je, a li je. Litokotoko a nke
nkho, a ee selibeng, a fiele, a ole molora.

Litokotoko a re : Letsatsi lena la kajeno lena, nkhono matso-
ho le maoto a ke ke a ba a a kuka. Nkhono'ae o itse ka re :
Litokotoko ! Litokotoko ! a khutsa, a re tu, ho fihlela matsema
a fihla a tsoang masimong. Eitse ha ntat'ae a fihla, a hlaha
Litokotoko a e-na le maoto le matsoho. Ntat'ae a makala ;
'm'ae a fihla, a makala !

Ntat'ae a 'motsa, a re : Litokotoko, maoto le matsoho u tsoa
a nka kae ? Are: Ke tsoa a nka ho nkhono. Nkhono ere ha
ho iloe masimong, a mpitse, a re ke mo fe lijo. Ebe ke re
ho nkhono : Ha ke se na maoto le matsoho ke tla u fa joang ?
Ebe nkhono o 'nea maoto aa le matsoho aa. Ebe kea mo fepa,
ke sile, ke fiele, ke ole molora, ke ee selibeng. Ere matsema ha
a fihla nkhono a nkhaole maoto le matsoho. Kajeno lena ke
ile ka ipata. Ntat'ae a re : Ke 'ona maoto a ngoan'a ka le ma-

258 FOLK-TALES

ing companies come back, grandmother cuts my feet and my
hands. To-day I have hidden myself. The father said : These
are really the hands and the feet of my child. They went to
sleep.

Next morning he went to the chiefs court. He arrived there
and told the chief. The chief called a great assembly. That
woman was called and placed there. She was asked about her
deeds. She confessed and said that these were indeed the
hands and feet of Litokotoko. Then she was put to death.
This is the end of the tale.

XXXVIII

LIMO AND 'MALIEPETSANE l

During a famine, as 'Maliepetsane was gathering moseeka,
Limo2 appeared on the ridge of mountain. He shouted, he
shouted : 'Maliepetsane, what are yougathering there ? — Haha !
I am gathering the food of Limo. Limo was angry, and jumped
suddenly towards her ; 'Maliepetsane ran away quickly. 'Ma-
liepetsane disappeared into the hole where she was accustomed
to live.3 Limo could not enter that hole as he was too large
for it.

Next morning 'Maliepetsane is again gathering moseeka. Li-
mo tries some tricks ; he kills an animal. Limo fastens its skin
over the hole of 'Maliepetsane, in order that 'Maliepetsane can-
not enter it when running away from Limo. Limo, on the mount-
ain, looks down on 'Maliepetsane : Hulloa ! 'Maliepetsane, what
are you gathering ? — Haha ! I am gathering the food of Limo.
Limo started suddenly against her, 'Maliepetsane, ran away
swiftly. Over her hole the skin was stretched; 'Maliepetsane
threw herself on it ; the skin gave way ; 'Maliepetsane went in ;
she had worsted Limo.

1 This tale is taken from A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 192.

2 Limo (from lelimo, cannibal) is often used as the proper name of cannibals

Limo and ' ' Malicpetsane 259

tsoho a ngoan'a ka. Ba robala.

Eitse hosasane a ea moreneng ; eaba o fihla a bolella morena.
Morena a etsa pitso e kholo. A bitsoa, a beoa mona mosali
enoa. A botsoa ketso ena ; a e lumela, a re ke 'ona maoto le
matsoho a Litokotoko. Eaba oa bolaoa.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

XXXVIII

LIMO LE 'MALIEPETSANE

Tlaleng, moseekeng, 'Maliepetsane ha a hela, Limo a hlaha
holim'a thaba pontseng. A hoeletsa, a hoeletsa : 'Maliepetsane,
moo u sela-sela'ng ? — Ishe, ke sela-sela thepa ea Limo. Limo
a halefa, a mo rutlolohela ka sekaja, 'Maliepetsane a tsirimala.
'Maliepetsane o na a e-na le ntlo ea mokoti, a kena mokoting.
Limo a le motenya ho feta mokoti a sitoa ho kena teng.

Ka hosasa ho hlahlamang, 'Maliepetsane o moseekeng hape.
Limo o etsa maleba-leba, o bolaea nyamatsane. Holim'a mo-
koti oa 'Maliepetsane Limo a bapola letlalo, 'Maliepetsane ha a
e-tla a hlōloe ho kena, ha a balehela Limo. Limo holim'a tha-
ba o okametse 'Maliepetsane : Hela, 'Maliepetsane ee, na u se-
la-sela'ng ee ? — Ishe ! ke sela-sela thepa ea Limo. Limo ha
a raohela 'Maliepetsane, a le jaba-jaba. Mokoting ho thakhi-
sitsoe letlalo ; 'Maliepetsane a tetebana holim'a lona ; letlalo
la muleha, 'Maliepetsane a kena, a tsietsa Limo.

(cf. No. X).
3 'Maliepetsane lives in a hole like Bushmen.

260 FOLK-TALES

Limo devised some tricks ; he killed an animal and pegged
a strong skin over the hole. He went to the mountain as usual.
— 'Maliepetsane, what are you gathering ? — Oh oh ! what is it ?
I am gathering the food of Limo. Limo ran down after her as
usual. 'Maliepetsane outran Limo. Over the hole a skin was
stretched, it was a very strong one. She tried to throw herself
through it, she tried it, she tried it. This clay she has slipped
on calves' dung ;l she is in the clutches of Limo.

In Limo's hut there lived an old woman, Limo's mother, who
was sitting in the dark in the hut. When Limo arrived with
'Maliepetsane, he gave his mother the order to kill her present-
ly, and to cook her after she had killed her. When he had gi-
ven his orders, he went away.

Now in the hut 'Maliepetsane strangled the old woman, Limo's
mother ; she cooked her quickly, having dressed herself in her
clothes and her cap. When Limo came back to the enclosure
before the hut, he told his child to bring him the meat.2

As they were eating, the child said : This hand is like grand-
mother's. 'Maliepetsane said in anger : This child is mad ;
she only makes blunders ; you astonish me ! — Look father,
this finger, you may say it is my grandmother's 3 — Pish ! don't
prattle so, stupid child ; clo you really not know my fingers.

When Limo had gone to the khotla, 'Maliepetsane undressed
and clothed herself in Limo's war clothes. She went out of the
hut, brandished her spears to Limo saying : Limo has eaten
his mother. She cried : I am 'Maliepetsane. She danced, she
danced, she danced. Alas ! alas ! Limo was foaming with
anger ; he jumped against 'Maliepetsane. Now 'Maliepetsane
took to her heels quickly ; she darted away towards the river,
but the river was full. As she was unable to cross, she changed
herself into a little stone.

Limo looked around for her. As he could not see her, he
picked up a stone. — Even if she were walking on the other
side I could hit her. So saying he threw the stone to the other
side of the river. But it was not a stone, it was 'Maliepetsane.

i

1 Ho hata inasepa a manamane, to thread on the dung of calves, is a proverbial
expression meaning to meet with an accident or to be in distress. The yellow
dung of calves during the three or four first days after their birth is very slip-
pery ; whoever treads on it is likely to slip and fall down.

2 An old woman (sometimes also a child) killed, cooked and given to her
relatives to eat is another favourite incident in Bantu tales, not to speak of all
the instances where the person is merely cooked but not eaten, cf. notes to Nos.
I and II. In Ba Suto lore it is found in the tales of Raseretsana (No. XLI) and
Setlatloe-majoe (A. SEKESE, op. cit. p. 218). The Zulu and Kaffir stories of Uhla-
kanyana (CALLAWAY, op. cit. p. 19 ; THEAL, op. cit. p. 94) and Qajana (TORREND,

Liino and "Maliepetsane 261

Limo ka maleba-leba a bolaea phoofolo, a bapola letlalo le
thata mokoting, a ea holim'a thaba. — A 'Maliepetsane, u sela-
sela'ng moo ? — A 'makane ! ka le bona ! ke sela-sela thepa ea
Limo. Limo a mo seohela joale ka mehla. 'Maliepetsane a siea
Limo. Mokoting ho thakhisitsoe letlalo, ke le thata-thata. Te-
tenene ! tetenene ! tetenene ! Tsatsing leo o hatile a manamane,
o naleng tsa Limo.

Thing ha Limo ho no ho phela setsohali, 'm'a Limo, ea neng
a lula thing har'a lefifi. Limo ha a fihla le 'Maliepetsane, a
laela, a re 'm'a hae a sale a mo bolaea, 'me ha a 'molaile a mo
phehe. Ha a qetile ho laela, a ikela.

Kamorao, 'Maliepetsane a khama setsohali seo, 'm'a Limo,
a mo hlatleha ka mafolo-folo, a ikapesitse kobo tsa hae le kuoa-
ne ea hae. Ha Limo a kena lapeng, 'Maliepetsane a re ngoana
a mo isetse nama.

Ha ba ntse ba e-ja, ngoana a re : Letsoho leo e ka la nkhono.
'Maliepetsane, ka bohale-hale : Ngoana ke lehlanyatsana enoa,
o li fefetha tsohle ; eka u ntlholla mehlolo. — Ak'u bone hie,
ntate ; monoana ona u ka re oa nkhono. — Jaa ! se n'o bera-
bera, lekako la ngoana ! hie eka menoana ea ka ha u e tsebe.

Limo ha a ile khotla, 'Maliepetsane a hlobola, a apara lihlomo
tsa Limo,' a tsoa ka har'a ntlo, a hlakisetsa Limo, a re : Limo a
ja 'm'a hae. A re : Ke 'Maliepetsane. A tlōla, a tlōla, a tlōla.
Jo ! jo ! Limo a phophoma, a rutlolohela 'Maliepetsane. Ke ha
'Maliepetsane a tla baleha, a betsehela nōkeng, empa nōka e
tletse. Eare ha a sitoa ho tsela, a iphetola lejoenyana.

Limo a mo batla. Ha a sa mo bone, a thola lejoe. — Le ho-
ja a ka b'a tsamaea mose, ke ne ke ea 'metsa. Ha a rialo a
betsetsa lejoe mose. Hase lejoe, ke 'Maliepetsane. Mose tšetla !
— Limo a ntšelisa nōka e tletse ! Limo a ntšelisa nōka e tletse !

Comparative Grammar, p. 31 1) tell exactly the same thing as our tale. The hare
plays the same trick to a woman (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 43), so also does
the kawakeuntu, a fabulous dwarf (ibid. p. 70). A Nyasaland tale (Folk-Lore,
1892, p. 105) tells an identical story. In Angola folklore (CHATELAIN, op. cit.
p. 195) the young goat kills the young leopard and gives it to its parents to eat ;
cf. also a Zambezi tale (JACOTTET, Textes Soubiya, p. 15) where the hare gives
to the lioness the flesh of her cubs.

3 In the Zulu, Kaffir and Nyasa tales one of the children also recognizes the
toes or the finger of his grandmother, and refuses to eat it.

262 FOLK-TALES

The stone fell down with a thud on the other side. — Limo has
helped me to cross the flooded river ! Limo has helped me to
cross the flooded river I1

XXXIX

MORI AN A

They say that there were three girls who had gone to the gar-
dens. The girls arrived, and went into a field and plucked
maize. One of the girls said : My friends, what should we do
if cannibals appeared ? One said : As for me, I would change
myself into the handle of a pick. One said : I would change
myself into a gourd. One said : I would change myself into
lard. They played there in the field, they played.

As one was looking on, she said : Here come the cannibals.
One of them changed herself into the handle of a pick, another
into a gourd, another into lard. The cannibals arrived at that
field ; they said : Phew ! what horrid lard. One of them said :
Look at this fine gourd, this fine drinking cup. Another said :
Look, what a fine pick handle. The last one took that pick
handle, and said : As for me, I want to take this fine pick han-
dle. The others said : All right, take it. That man arrived
home and threw it into his outhouse. They slept.

Next day they were drinking strong beer ; the men were sit-
ting in the men's court, the girls were playing outside. The
girls heard the pick handle speaking in the outhouse :
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd,
They were afraid, afraid, and left me,
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd,
They said Little pick handle would not be killed.
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd.

I This is again an incident much liked in Bantu folklore. Uhlakanyava in
the Zulu tale, or Qajana in the Kaffir story, turns himself into a stick and is
thrown over a swollen river. In Theal's version, it is, as here, into a stone that
Hlakanyana changes himself. In a Ronga tale (JUNOD, Les Ba-Ronga, p. 319)
a maiden pursued by cannibals escapes in the same way ; the same is told of
Litaolane in Casalis' version (Les Bassoutos, p. 365) of the story of Moshanyan'a

Mori ana 263

XXXIX
MORIANA

Ba re e ne e le banana, ba ea masimong ba le bararo. Banana
bana ba fihla ba kena serapeng, ba e-kha poone. Eaba ngoa-
na e mong o re : Bo-'nake, hleka malimo ha a hlaha mona, re ka
etsa joang ? Eaba e mong o re : 'Na nka iphetola moriana. E
mong a re : Nka iphetola leraka. E mong a re : Nka iphetola
lefura. Ba ntse ba bapala mona serapeng, ba n'tse ba bapala.

E mong ha a talima a re : Malimo ke ana a e-tla. Eaba e
mong o fetoha moriana, e mong o fetoha leraka, e mong o feto-
ha lefura. Malimo ana a fihla serapeng mona, a re : Khele ! a
lefura le tšabeheng. E mong a re : Ak'u bone leraka le letle,
mohope o motle. E mong a re: Ak'u bone moriana o motle.
Eaba monna enoa o nka moriana ona, a re : 'Na, nka ikukela
moriana ona o motle. Ba bang ba re : Che, u ka o kuka. A
fihla a o akhela ka mokhorong ha hae, monna enoa. Ba robala.

Eitse hosasane ha nooa joala, banna ba lutse khotla, banana
ba bapala kantle. Banana ba utloa moriana o bua ka mokho-
rong, o re :

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba tšaba-tšaba, ba ntlohela,

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba itse ngoan'a moriana ha a bolaoe,

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake.

Senkatana (Nos. XI and XII).

2 A. Sekese (op. cit. p. 224) has the same story, but in his version it is Masilo
and two other young men, not girls as here, who change themselves into lifeless
objects to escape the cannibals. Masilo becomes a walking stick, one of his
companions a blade of grass, the other changes himself into mud.

264 FOLK-TALES

The girls said : Father, your pick handle is speaking. The
father said : A stick cannot speak. They said : Come father,
come and sit down here, you will hear. The father came and
sat down. The pick handle began :

Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd,
They were afraid, afraid, and left me,
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd,
They said Little pick handle would not be killed.
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd.
He said : Oh forsooth ! this pick handle is speaking. He de-
parted, went to the other men in the men's court, and said : Men,
the pick handle there in ray outhouse is speaking. They said :
Ao ! He said : Truly, by Maqoma, it is speaking. The men de-
parted, went, arrived, and sat down. It began again, the pick
handle :

Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd,
They were afraid, afraid, and left me,
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd.
They said Little pick handle would not be killed.
Little lard, Little gourd; Little lard, Little gourd.
They said : Indeed we have heard ! your pick handle is speak-
ing. They dispersed, they left it there, that pick handle. The
sun set ; they slept. In the early morning it spoke :
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd,
They were afraid, afraid, and left me,
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd,
They said Little pick handle would not be killed.
Little lard, Little gourd ; Little lard, Little gourd.
It went on rolling, it went outside. When the people went
out in the morning, they found that the pick handle had depar-
ted and was gone. They did not know where it had gone.

Mori ana 265

Banana ba re: Ntate, moriana oa hao oa bina. Ntat'a bona
a re : Thupa ha e bue. Eaba ba re : Tlo, ntate, u tl'o lula mo-
na, u tla utloa. Ntat'a bona a fihla mona, oa lula. Oa gala he
moriana :

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba tšaba-tšaba, ba ntlohela,

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba itse ngoan'a moriana ha a bolaoe,

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake.
A re : Khele, efela moriana 00 oa bua. A tloha, a ea khotla
ho banna ba bang, a re : Banna, moriana oa bua o ka mokho-
rong ha ka ka moo. Ba re : Ao ! A re : Ka 'manete a Maqoma,
oa bua. Banna ba tloha, ba tla, ba fihla, ba lula. Oa eketsa
he moriana :

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba tšaba-tsaba, ba ntlohela

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba itse ngoan'a moriana ha a bolaoe,

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake.
Ba re : Khele ! re utloile, moriana oa hao oa bua. Ba qhalana,
ba o tlohela mona moriana 00. Tsatsi la likela ; ba robala.
Eitse kameso oa qala :

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba tšaba-tšaba, ba ntlohela,

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake,

Ba itse ngoan'a moriana ha a bolaoe,

Furane, Lerake ; Furane, Lerake.
O ntse o pitikoloha, o tsoela kantle. Ha ba tloha ba tsoela
ntle, ba fumana hore moriana 00 o tsoile, o tsamaile. Ha ba
sa o tseba le moo o ileng oa ea.

266 FOLK-TALES

XL
OBU1

Once upon a time there was a young man who fell in love
with a maiden of another village and married her. When he
had married her, she came to her husband's village. Every day
she cooked a great quantity of bread; her mother took all the
bread at night, when the people were asleep. She gave it to
her own people; they slept, the night cleared off. On a certain
day she called her daughter-in-law ; they went away at night
and arrived at a donga ; this maiden was afraid, asking herself
continually : Where are we going ? They arrived at the donga
and found there the maidens with whom her mother used to
practice witchcraft, also ghosts, and baboons and many other
animals.2 Then her mother ordered all of them to sit down ;
they sat down and were silent. She took two staves, a brown
one and a black one ; then she said to her daughter : Look closely
at what I am going to do. '

She brandished the black staff at them; all of them died.
She then said to her daughter : Do you see ? She said : I see.
Then the mother took the brown staff, and brandished it at
them; they came back to life. She said: Do you see well, my
child ? The daughter answered : Yes. The mother said : You
also shall do as I did. She gave her the two staves and said :
You have seen them well, have you ? You know well the one
which kills, do you ? The one which brings back to life you
know it well, do you ? The daughter said : Yes. The mother
then sat down near the others ; it was now the daughter-in-law
alone who had to brandish the staves at them. She brandished

I This is one of the very few Ba-Suto tales which deal with the subject of
witchcraft. Quite contrary to Bleek's too hasty theory (Reynard the Fox, p.
XXIV) the Bantu in general, the Hereros perhaps excepted, and most particu-
larly the Ba-Suto have practically none of the "horrible ghost stories and tales
of witchcraft" with which he credits them. In fact, in the somewhat impor-
tant number of Ba-Suto folk-tales I have collected, only two are ghost
or witch stories. In my comparatively numerous collection of Zambezi
tales only three or four deal with this subject. Callaway in his Nurse/ y
Tales of the Zulus, Theal in his Kaffir Folk-Lore, Junod in his Contes des
Ba-Ronga, Chatelain in his Folk-Tales of Angola, Trilles in his extensive collection

Obu 267

XL
OBU

Ba re e ne e re e le mohlankana, a rata moroetsana e mong
motseng o mong, a ba a mo nyala. Ha a se a mo nyetse, a ba
a ea ha habo. Joale ka matsatsi a mang a pheha bohobe bo
le bongata. Joale 'm'ae a nka bohobe bono kaofela ha bona
bosiu, bat ho ba se ba robetse. A fa batho ba hae bao a nang
le bona ; ba robala, bosiu ba e-sa. Eitse ka tsatsi le leng, a
bitsa ngoetsi ea hae; ba tsamaea bosiu, ba ba ba fihla lengo-
peng, ngoana enoa oa hae a tšohile, a nts'a re : Na ekaba re ea
hokae? Ba fihla ka lengopeng, ba fumana baroetsana bao 'm'ae
a loeangle bona, le litšoene, le lithotsela, le liphoofolo tse ngata.
Eaba 'm'ae o re ba lule fatše kaofela; ba lula fatše, ba re rii !
Eaba o nka thupa tsè peli, e 'ngoe e le sootho, e 'ngoe e le ntšo.
Eaba o re ho ngoana oa hae : U tie u talime kamoo ke tla etsa
kateng..

Eaba o ba ōma ka e ntšo, eaba ba shoa kaofela. Eaba o re :
Ua bona he ? Eaba o re : Kea bona. Eaba o nka e sootho, eaba
o ōma ka eona, eaba ba'tsoha. Eaba o re: Ha ke re u bone
hantle? Eaba o re : E. Eaba o re: Le uena u etse joale ka 'na.
Eaba o mo nea thupa tseo ; eaba o re : Ha ke re u ii bone hantle
na ? Ha ke re le ee e shoesang ua e tseba na ? Le ee e tsosang,
ha ke re ua e tseba na ? Eaba o re : E. Eaba o lula ho bona,
ea e-ba ngoetsi feela ea tla ba ōma. Eaba ngoetsi e ba ōma ka
e shoesang ; ba e-shoa kaofela. Eaba o ba tlohela, ba se ba
shoele, a ea hae.

of Fang folklore, have practically no ghost or witch stories. It is only in Brin-
cker's collection of Herero tales that many stories of this nature are to be found.

Casalis (Les Bassoutos, p. 289) has the same story, or rather, the first part of
it. According to him it is the account of the first introduction of the art and
practice of witchcraft among the Ba-Suto. Our story is, in fact, probably more
a legend than a tale. Though it was related to me as an ordinary tale, other
Ba-Suto whom I consulted maintained that it was not a tšōmo (tale) but a taba
(history or legend).

2 Baboons and animals of all descriptions, but mostly black, and ghosts of
departed persons are part of the necessary paraphernalia of Ba-Suto witchcraft.

268 FOLK-TALES

at them the staff which kills ; they all died. Then she left them
dead and returned home.

When she reached home, her husdand asked her: Where do
you come from ? She said : How do you think I can know your
mother's ways ? Her husband answered nothing. Then she said :
Here in this village, in a hut you may had a man, but his wife
is absent; in another hut you may find a woman, but her hus-
band is not there. The morning came. Then the chief of the
village called all his people, in order that he might watch them
when they came out of their huts. He saw that from a hut came
out the man alone, his wife being absent ; from another hut came
out a woman alone, her husband being away.

Thereupon the chief said : Let us go and see the people
yonder at the stream. They went and found them still stretched
on the ground. She took the staves which her mother had given
her. She brandished them at them. When they began to rise
up they found that it was broad daylight. The ghosts vanished
away, they did not see them any more. All these people were
naked, having no garments.1

Now the daughter-in-law went up and returned home. She
took her sleeping mat. Her husband asked her : Where are you
going ? She said : I am going to my parents. She went away
and arrived at her parents' village. She said : I have been
married among witches ; I even know already how to practise
witchcraft ; if I had known, I would not have been married there.
She remained there at her parents.

Her mother-in-law yonder, at home yonder, was very angry
at the manner her daughter-in-law had treated her. At evening,
when it was about the time to retire, into the huts, she went to
fetch her people; she went for them to the donga. She arrived,
gathered them and said : You girls go and fetch sticks. They
went. She said : Take good ones, thin ones. She said: She is
my daughter-in-law, so I will teach her ; she shall know that I
am her mother.

Then she said : Fetch her, obe.2 The obe went. When it was
arriving at the village, that maiden heard it; it was saying :
Obe! obe! obe!

What will you say you have seen ? obe !
Oh you poor girl, obe !
Your ears are upstanding, obe !

3 Just as European witches used to go to their midnight revels in a state of
complete nakedness, so it is, according to Ba-Suto notions, with the witches of
South Africa. Human fancy seems to be the same in all countries and with
all races, and on this special subject there is an amazing amount of resemblance
between the superstitions of Europeans some centuries ago and Africans of

Obu 269'

Eitse ha a fihla hae koana, monna oa hae a 'motsa, a re : U
tsoa kae ? A re : Mekhoa ea 'm'ao ke e tseba ka'ng ? Eaba mo-
nna oa hae oa thōla. Eaba o re : Hae mona, tlung ea motho e
mong ho ka fumanoa monna. mosali a le sieo ; tlung e 'ngoe ho
ka fumanoa mosali, monna a le sieo. Eaba boa sa. Eaba mo-
rena oa motse ono o bitsa batho kaofela hore a ba lebele ha ba
e-tsoa matlung a bona. A bona tlung e 'ngoe ho e-tsoa monna,.
mosali a le sieo ; tlung e 'ngoe ho tsoe mosali, monna a le sieo.

Eaba morena eo o re : A re ke re ee ho bona batho ba nōke ng
koana. Ba ea, ba fumana e sa le ba tonama feela. Eaba o ntsa
lithupa tsena tsee a neng a li neoe ke 'm'ae. Eaba oa ba ōma..
Eitse ha ba re ba tsoha, ba fumana e le motšeare ; lithotsela tsa
timela, eaba ha ba sa li bona. Batho bana kaofela, bo hlobotse,
ha ba na likobo.

Eaba ngoetsi ea hae ea nyoloha, e ea hae. Eaba e nka mose-
me. Eaba monna oa hae oa 'motsa, a re : U ea hokae ? Eaba o
re : Ke ea ha eso. A tsamaea, a ba a fihla ha habo. Eaba o re :
Ke nyetsoe baloing, ke se ke tseba le ho loea ; hoja ka tseba,.
nka be ke se ke ka ba ka nyaloa teng. A lula mona ha habo.

MatsaFae koana, hae koana, o utloile bohloko, kamoo ngoetsi
ea hae e mo entseng kateng. Eitse mantsiboea, eitse ha ho
batloa ho kenoa matlung, a ba batla batho ba hae ; ba ea
hona koana lengopeng. A fihla, a ba bokella, a re : Lithupeng,,
lōna baroetsana. Ba ea. A re : Le khe tse ntle, tse tšesane.
Are: Ke ngoetsi ea ka, ke sa tla mo joentša le hona; o tla.
ntseba hoba ke 'm'a hae.

Eaba o re : Mo late, obe. Ea ea obe. Eitse ha e tla, moroe-
tsana eo a e utloa ; ea re :

Obe ! obe ! obe !
U tla re u bone'ng ? obe !
Ngoanana' a batho, obe !
Tsebe li erne, obe !

to-day.

. 4 The obe (rather strangely called obu in the title of the tale, a discrepancy
which the narrator himself pointed out without being able to explain it) is a fab-
ulous animal of very large size in the service of the witch.

.270 * FOLK-TALES

Now the maiden cried: Father, do you hear? But her father
was snoring, She vainly tried to shake him; her father went
on snoring. She went to her mother ; she said : Oh ! mother do
you hear ? Her mother was snoring. She then went out of her
parents' hut, and went to the hut of another man ; she arrived
and tried to rouse him. That man was snoring so that he could
not hear anything. She bit him, that man did not feel anything.
She went oui, returned to her parents ; she arrived and hid her-
self by her mother under the blankets. She wept, but to no use ;
her mother did not hear anything. Then she was silent.1
In came the obe, saying :

Obe! obe! obe!

What will you say you have seen ? obe !

Oh you poor girl, obe!

Your ears are upstanding, obe!
It came into the village, it came to her parents' hut, entered
the reed enclosure and took her ; it put her in its ear and went
away with her. It arrived with her yonder; it arrived and put
her down.

Her mother-in-law stood up, saying: Oh! my daughter-in-
law, you have treated me so badly in public, you shall now
know that I am your mother. She said: Down upon her, you
girls ! They came to her, all ; they thrashed her stoutly, she was
covered with bruises. They were all broken, the sticks which
they had cut. The mother-in-law said again : Go and fetch
sticks, you girls. They went and came back with them. She
said: Now you shall know that I am your mother. She said:
Down upon her, you girls ! They struck her. When the night
was nearly gone she said : Take her back, obe. It took her, the
obe, put her in its ear, and brought her away. It arrived and
deposited her at home. It then went back.

Then she cried : Oh ! oh ! mother. They began to wake. She
•cried : Alas ! I am dead, alas ! When they began to wake, they
looked at her, and found that she was swollen all over, up to
ears; her face also was swollen by the beating from the sticks.
They asked : What has harmed you, our child ? She said : For a
long time I tried to wake you up, but you did not hear, and then
that animal arrived and took me. They cried: Alas! our child
is beaten to death, alas ! Now the father fetched a doctor ; that
doctor came, and made his preparations there in the reed en-
closure ; at evening he went home.

I In a very interesting tale of the Fangs, The three sons of Ada (Trilles,
Legendes el Contes Fang in Bulletin de la Socicte neuchdtcloise de Geographie, 1 905,
p. 181) we find exactly the same feature. The Bibibi (most frightful ogres) come

Obu 271

Eaba moroetsa eo o re: Ntate, lea utloa ? Ntat'ae eaba oa
hona. Joale o tsoatsoile a mo sisinya ; ntat'ae a hona. A ea
ho 'm'ae. a re: 'Me na, lea utloa na ? Eaba 'm'ae oa hona. A
ba a tsoa ka tlung ka habo, a ba a ea ka tlung ea monna e
mong, a fihla, a re oa mo tsosa. Monna enoa oa hona ; a se ke
a ba a utloa le ho utloa. O ba a mo loma ; monna enoa a se ke
a ba a utloa. O ba a tsoa, a ea ka habo; a fihla, a kena ka
likobong ka ho 'm'ae. O tsoatsoile a 11a, 'm'ae a se ke a ba a
utloa. O ba a thōla feela joale.

Ea tla obe, ea re :

Obe ! obe ! obe !
U tla re u bone'ng ? obe !
Ngoanana' a batho, obe !
Tsebe li erne, obe !
Eaba ea tla kena hae ; ea ba ea ea habo, eaba e kena ka la-
peng; eaba ea mo nka, eaba e mo kenya ka tsebeng. ea tsama-
ea ka eena. Ea ba ea fihla le eena koana, ea fihla, ea 'mea.

Ha ema matsal'ae, a re : Oo ! ngoetsi ea ka, u ile ua nketsa
hampe hakale-kale har'a batho ; ke hona u tla ntseba hoba ke
'm'ap. O re : Ho eena, methepa ! Ea fihla ho eena kaofela joa-
le, ba mo khakhatha, a 'na a re kha kha kha kha ! Tsa ba tsa
fella lithupa tsena tse neng li rengoe kaofela. O boela are: Li-
thupeng. Ba ea, ba tla le tsona. A re : Ke hona u tla tseba
hoba ke 'm'ao. A re : Ho eena, methepa ! Ba mo otla. Eitse
ha bo batla bo oela fatše, eaba o re : Mo ise, obe. Eaba ea
khutla.

Eaba o re : 'Mè na ! Ba qala ho tsoha. A re : Jo ! ka shoa
oee ! Eitse ha ba re ba tsoha, ba mo talima, ba f umana a se a
ruruhile hohle le litsebeng mona, a se a ruruhile le mahlong ke
lithupa ha ba mo otla. Eaba ba re : U jeoa ke'ng, ngoan'a rōna ?
Eaba o re : Ke khale ke le tsosa; ntho ea mosali eane e ee e
tie, e fihle, e nkuke bosiu. Ke re ka le tsosa, ebe ha le utloe,
e be e fihle, e nkuke. Eaba ba re : Jo ! ngoan'a rōna a shoa oee i
Eaba ntat'ae o batla ngaka; ngaka eno ea tla, ea fihla, ea sebe-
tsa lapeng mona; eaba e ea hae mantsiboea.

to attack Ada's sons, after having thrown a spell over them. Their mother is
unable to wake them though she burns their feet and hands with a lighted
torch. They sleep on, and two of them are killed during their sleep.

272 FOLK-TALES

When it was about time for the people to go into the huts,
that woman went down to the donga with her people. She said :
Fetch her, obe. The obe went to fetch her, saying :

Obe ! obe ! obe !

What will you say you have seen ! obe !

Oh you poor girl, obe !

Your ears are upstanding, obe !
She cied : Oh ! mother ! oh father ! don't you hear ? They were
sleeping soundly and snoring. She vainly tried to bite them ;
they went on sleeping soundly. So she left them in despair. It
•came, the obe, saying :

Obe! obe! obe!

What will you say you have seen ? obe !

Oh you poor girl, obe !

Your ears are upstanding, obe !
It went into her parents' court, arrived, took her, and went
away with her.

It arrived and put her down. The mother-in-law said : To the
sticks, you girls ! They went and came back with them. She
said : Oo ! my child, now you shall know that I am your mother-
in-law; you have treated me so badly! The sticks went down
on her: kha ! kha! kha ! kha ! They thrashed her soundly.
When the night was nearly gone, she said : Take her home,
obe. It took her, the obe, it brought her home ; then it went back.
The maiden cried: Alas! alas! woe to me! I am dead! oh
my father ! They began to wake up. The mother said : Alas !
oh my child, alas ! The father wanted to kill himself, seeing
that she was quite covered with blood; her eyes could no more
be seen so completely was her body swollen all over. A man
of that village said Gently please, do not kill yourself, but go
and fetch another doctor. He went and found one ; he came
with him. The doctor killed a sheep, and made his preparations
with it in the reed enclosure. Then he went home. Now the father
said that he would keep watch ; he slept there in the reed enclosure.
When it was about time for the people to go into the huts,
her mother-in-law left home with her people. She arrived and
said : Fetch her, obe. It went to fetch her, the obe ; it said :

Obe! obe! obe!

What will you say you have seen? obe!

Oh you poor girl, obe!

Your ears are upstanding, obe !
The maiden said: Oh ! father, do you not hear? They were sleep-
ing soundly and snoring. She tried vainly to bite them ; they did
not feel anything. It came, saying :

Obe ! obe ! obe !

What will you say you have seen? obe!

Oh you poor girl, obe!

Your ears are upstanding, obe !
It arrived, came into the village; even the dogs did not bark.
It arrived, it took her, and went away with her.

, Obu 273

Eitse ha ho batloa ho kenoa matlung, a theoha mosali eane, a
ea koana lengopeng le batho ba hae ; a re : Obe, mo late. Ea

mo lata obe, ea re :

Obe ! obe ! obe !

U tla re u bone'ng ? obe !

Ngoanana' a batho, obe !

Tsebe li erne, obe !
Eaba o re : 'Me na, ntate na, lea utloa na ? Eaba ba re rii, ba
hona. O tsoatsoile a ba loma, ba 'na ba re rii. Joale o ba a ba
tela feela. Ea tla obe, ea re :

Obe ! obe ! obe !
U tla re u bone'ng ? obe !
Ngoanana' a batho, obe !
Tsebe li erne, obe !
Ea ba ea kena habo lapeng, ea fihla, ea mo nka, ea tsamaea
le eena.

Ea fihla, ea 'mea. O re : Lithupeng, methepa ! Ba ea, ba tla
le tsona. O re : Oo, ngoan'a ka, ke hona u tla ntseba hoba ke
matsal'ao; u nkentse hampe hakale-kale. Ha 11a thupa : kha
kha kha kha. Ba mo khakhatha. Bosiu eitse ha bo batla bo
ea oela fatše, a re : 'Musetse, obe. Ea mo nka obe, ea ba ea mo
fihlisa hae ; eaba ea khutla.

Eaba ore: Jo! oee ! jo ! ka shoa oee ! ntate na ! Ba qala ho
tsoha. 'M'ae a re : Jo ! ngoan'a ka oee ! Ntat'ae a re oa itihela,
a se a re tso ke mali joalo, le mahlo a se a thibane, a se a ruru-
hile hohle, 'meleng oa hae kaofela. Monna e mong oa motse
ono a re : Butle hie, u se ke ua itihela ; u tie u batle ngaka e
'ngoe ka mona. A ea, a fihla, a e batla ; a tla le eona. Eaba e
hlaba nku, eaba e sebetsa ka eona lapeng mona. Eaba e ea
hae. Eaba ntat'ae o re oa lebela ; a robala ka lapeng.

Eitse ha ho batloa ho kenoa matlung, matsaFae a tloha hae
le batho ba hae ; a fihla, a re : Mo late, obe. Ea mo lata obe,
ea re :

Obe ! obe ! obe !
U tla re u bone'ng ! obe ! r
Ngoanana' a batho, obe !
Tsebe li erne, obe !
Eaba o re : Ntate na, lea utloa na ? Eaba ba re rii, ba hona.
O tsoatsoile a ba loma, ba se ke ba utloa. Ea tla, ea re :

Obe ! obe ! obe !
U tla re u bone'ng ? obe !
Ngoanana' a batho, obe !
Tsebe li erne, obe !
Eaba ea fihla, ea kena har'a motse; le lintja ha li bohole.
Eaba ea fihla, ea mo nka, ea tsamaea ka eena.

274 FALK-TALES

Her mother-in-law said : Now you shall know that I am your
mother-in-law. She said : Down upon her, girls ! They thrashed
her, the blows resounded ! When the night was nearly gone, she
said : Take her home, obe. It took her, the obe, it brought her
home ; then it went back.

She said : Alas ! woe to me ! alas ! I am dead alas ! Where
shall I go to ? Her father and mother began to wake up. The
father again fetched another doctor; he came with him. He
arrived and slaughtered a black sheep. He slept there at that
girl's in the reed enclosure.

Then the doctor said : The animal which carries that child
away is very large and very dreadful. Let all the men of the
village be gathered, let them leave here and go to the path by
which it usually comes ; some must keep below the path, others
must keep above the path; they must move on in that manner,
so that they all arrive here with it.

They went and did so. Of the men who remained in the reed
enclosure, one sat down on that side of the doorway, another at
this side of the doorway, so that they left an open space for it,
that it might pass between. Then the doctor said : You who
are behind, you must come as if chasing it before you, so that
when it arrives and enters the reed enclosure you should be
there with it ; it is a mighty animal. They slept.

She went down, her mother-in-law yonder, she said : Bring
her, obe. It came saying :

Obe! obe! obe!

What will you say you have seen ? obe !

Oh you poor girl, obe !

Your ears are upstanding, obe !

The maiden said : You hear, do you ? They answered : We
do, our child. It was coming on, still speaking so. It came, it
passed those men on the path ; all the men had taken their
spears. They came on, marching behind it. It was going on,
still speaking so. It then came into the village. When it entered
the reed enclosure, they had all arrived near it, and pierced it
with their spears. It jumped up, it tried to jump over the reed
enclosure; they pierced it there with their spears, they brought
it down with their spears. It rose again on the reed enclosure,
they pierced it there above with their spears, they brought it
down ; then they killed it. There they left it. And now this
maiden began to feel that she was saved.

Next morning the mistress of the obe came ; she asked them
to at least give her its skin. They refused. Then they told the
chief of the village where that woman was living ; they let him
know all about it. The chief drove her away, told her that she
must leave his village; she went away, she went away for good.
This is the end of the tale.

Obu 275

Eaba matsal'ae o re: Ke hona u tla ntseba hoba ke matsaPao.
O re : Ho eena, methepa ! Ba mo khakhatha, ea 11a thupa.
Eitse ha bo batla bo ea oela fatše, a re : Mo busetse, obe. Ea
mo nka obe, ea ba ea mo fihlisa habo ; eaba ea khutla.

O re : Jo ! oee ! jo ! ka shoa oee ! Ke tla ea kae na ? Ba qala
ho tsoha bo-'m'ae le ntat'ae. Ntat'ae a batla' ngaka e 'ngoe
hape; a tla le eona. Ea fihla, ea hlaba nku, e le ntšo. Joale
ea robala habo moroetsana eo lapeng.

Eaba ngaka eno e re : Phoofolo e nkang ngoana eo e kholo,
e bile ea tšabeha. Kaofela banna ba motse ona ba phuthehe,
ba tlohe hae mona, ba ee tseleng mona moo e'e tie le teng; ba
bang ba tie ba lule'ka tlase ho tsela, ba bang ba lule ka holimo
ho tsela, ba 'ne ba tsamaee ba etsa joalo, ba be ba tie ho kena
hae.

Ba tla, ba etsa joalo ; le ba hae lapeng, e mong a lula ka
'ngane ho monyako, e mong a lula ka 'ngane ho monyako, ke
hore ba e suthele sebaka, e tie e tsebe ho tsamaea kahare feela.
Eaba e re : Lōna ba kamorao, le tie le se le e khanna ; etl'ere
ha e e-tla, e kena lapeng mona, le tie be le se le le teng le lōna ;
ke phoofolo e matla, Eaba ba robala.

O theoha matsal'ae koana, a re : Mo late, obe. Ea tla, ea re :

Obe ! obe ! obe !

U tla re u bone'ng ? obe !

Ngoanana'a batho, obe !

Tsela li erne, obe !
Eaba moroetsana o re : Lea utloa na ? Eaba ba re : Rea
utloa, ngoan'a rōna. Ea 'na ea tla e ntse e riatso. Ea tla, ea feta
batho bane ba 'mileng, ba nkile marumo kaofela banna. Ba
tla ba se ntse ba tsamaea ka mora' eona. Eaba e ntse e itsa-
maela, e ntse e riatso. Ea ba ea tla kena hae. Eitse ha e kena
monyako oa seotloana, ba be se ba fihlile kaofela ho eona, ba
e hlaba ka marumo. Ea tlōla, ea re e tlōla seotloana ; ba e
hlabela holimo ka marumo, ba e busetsa fatše ka marumo.
Ea boela ea nyoloha, ba e hlabela holimo mona ka marumo, ba
e busetsa fatse ; ba ba ba e bolaea. Eaba ba e tlohela. Joale le
moroetsana enoa o qala ho pholoha.

Eitse hosasane a tla mong a obe, a re ba mpe ba mo nee le-
tlaloana la eona. Eaba ba hana. Eaba ba joetsa morena oa
motse 00 mosali enoa a hahileng ho oona, ba mo tsebisa litaba
tse joalo. Eaba morena eo oa mo tebela, a re a tlohe mono hae;
eaba oa tloha, oa falla.

Ke tšōmo ka mathetho.

276 FOLK-TALES

XLI

RASERETSANA

There was a man called Raseretsana who had two wives.
One of them gave birth to a little girl. She went to the garden
with her. When she was in the gardens where she had gone
to weed, a serapele came to her.2 It said to the woman :
Would you not like me to stay with your child ? She said : Yes.
It said : Bring her here and suckle her, so that she will not cry.
She suckled her.

Then the serapele took the child and went with her to the
watercourse. The day it played nicely with her. Next morning
Raseretsana went to the gardens with his wife. The serapele
came back and said : Mother, am I not to take charge of your
child again, to-day ? Raseretsana said : Are you in the habit
of giving my child to the care of animals ? The serapele said :
I am not an animal ; this girl is my child.

The mother then said : Her father refuses. The serapele
went to the father, and said : Give the child to me ; I shall take
care of her. When the child saw it, she smiled ; it made her
smile. Then the father said: Take her, and stay with her.
The serapele took her, and went with her to the watercourse.
As soon as it arrived there, it killed her and cooked her, till she
was well done.

It took one of her legs, ran quickly, and carried it to
Raseretsana. It arrived and said : My father, I have killed a
steenbok ; take this meat and eat it. He ate and gave some
to his wife. The wife said : The serapele has eaten my child.
Raseretsana said : Are you mad, why should the serapele eat
the child ? Then she said : Serapele, bring the child, I shall
suckle her.

1 Raseretsana signifies father of mud ; he is probably called so on account of
one of the incidents contained in this tale. Cf. the story of Setlatloe-majoe (A.
.SEKESE, op, cit. p. 219) which is practically the same as this.

2 The serapele is one of the many fabulous animals of Ba-Suto lore. An in-

Rase ret sana 277

XLI

RASERETSANA

Ba re e ne e re e le Raseretsana, a e-na le basali ba babeli.
Joale e mong a tsoala ngoana. Joale a ea masimong koana le
eena. Eitse ha a le masimong, a ile ho hlaola, joale ha fihla
serapele. A re ho mosali : Ha u re ke u salle le ngoana oa hao
na ? Eaba o re : E. Eaba o re : Mo tlise, ak'u mo antše pele, a
tie a se ke a 'na a 11a. Joale a mo antša.

Joale serapele a mo nka, a ea le eena ka nōkaneng. Tsa-
tsing leo a 'mapalisa hantle. Hosasane Raseretsana a ea ma-
simong le mosali oa hae. Serapele a boela a fihla, a re : 'Mè,
kajeno ha ke sa u salla le ngoana oa hao na ? Raseretsana a
re : Ngoan'eo oa ka, u 'no u mo nee liphoofolo ? Joale eaba
serapele se re : Ha ke phoofolo ; ke ngoan'a ka eo.

Joale mosali a re : Ntat'ae oa hana. Serapele sa ea ho ntat'ae,
eaba se re: Tlisa, ke u salle le ngoan'enoa oa hao. Eitse ngoa-
na ha a se bona, a tšeha, sa mo tšèhisa. Eaba ntat'ae o re : Mo
nke, u sale le eena. Serapele sa mo nka, sa ea le eena ka
nōkaneng. Eitse ha se sa fihla, se be se se se 'molaea, sa ba sa
mo pheha ; a ba a butsoa.

Eaba o ntša lentoana, oa titima, o le isa ho Raseretsana; a
fihla, a re : Ntate, ke bolaile thianyane, nka u je. A ja, a isetsa
mosali. Mosali a re : Serapele se jele ngoan'a ka. Raseretsana
are: Ua hlanya, serapele se ke ke sa ba sa e-ja ngoana eno.
Joale a re : Serapele-e, tlisa ngoana eo, a tie ho anya.

cident of the same kind has already been seen in the story of Saenyarie (No.
XXXIV), where the references to other tales will be found. Cf. also MACDON-
ALD, Africana, II, p. 325, where a little man from the graves, AmJeJe, eats a
child entrusted to him by its mother.

278 FOLK-TALES

The serapele came, stood at a distance, and said : Raseretsana,
I say, we have eaten that child together, you and I. It drew near
and stood before him. Raseretsana took an axe ; the serapele
ran away. Raseretsana pursued it and killed it. When he
was just beginning to flay it, a fly came and drank some of
the blood of the serapele. Raseretsana drove it away. When
it flew away, a sparrow took it and ate it.

Raseretsana pursued the sparrow having still the axe in his
hand. The sparrow went and perched on a tree. That tree
was growing above a waterhole. When Raseretsana was
beginning to hew it down, the axe fell into the waterhole.1

Some animals arrived and found Raseretsana wading into
the mud to find his axe. They said : Why is that little man,
Raseretsana, agitating that water so continually ? He answered :
You say : Why is that little man agitating that water so
continually ? The waterhole the axe fell into ; the axe with
which I was hewing the tree ; the tree the sparrow sat on ; the
sparrow ate the little fly ; the little fly drank the blood of the
serapele; the serapele ate my child. The animals went on.

Some others arrived and said : Why is that little man agi-
tating that water so continually ? He answered : You say : Why
is that little man agitating that water so continually ? The
waterhole the axe fell into ; the axe with which I was hewing
the tree ; the tree the sparrow sat on ; the sparrow ate the little
fly ; the little fly drank the blood of the serapele ; the serapele
ate my child.

Other animals came again, and said: That little man is
spoiling our water. He answered : You say I spoil your water.
Do you intend to mock me when you speak so ? The waterhole
the axe fell into ; the axe with which I was hewing the tree ;
the tree the sparrow sat on ; the sparrow ate the little fly ; the
little fly drank the blood of the serapele ; the serapele ate my
child.

Then they said : He ! whose egg is that one ? He answered:
That egg was given me by Mosoansoanyane.2 He went out of
the water and placed the egg on the path. Other animals
arrived, and said : Whose egg is it ? He answered : It is the egg
of Mosoansoanyane who said : Who breaketh let him break ;

I In A. Sekese's version the end of the story is different. Herd boys come
to water their sheep at the river where the man is hewing the tree on which
the bird is sitting. He pursues them. Women come and teli him to leave their
boys alone ; he falls upon them. Then he fights with the men who tell him to
leave their wives, saying : Those bad little men prevent me from thrashing the
women, who prevented me from beating the boys, who prevented me from kill-
ing the hawk, which drank the blood ot Setlatloe-majoe, which drank the blood

Raseretsana 279

Serapele a tla, a fihla, a.ema thōko, a re: Raseretsana, ke re
ngoana re mo jele le uena. A fihla, a lula pel'a hae. Rasere-
tsana a nka selepe, serapele sa baleha. A se phallisa, a ba a
se bolaea. Eitse ha a ntse a re oa se bua, ntsintsi ea fihla,
eaba e noa mali a serapele. Raseretsana a e tebela. Eitse ha
e ntse e rura leholi la e nka.

Raseretsana a phallisa leholi, a ntse a nkile selepe. Leholi
la fihla, la lula holim'a molupo. Sefate seo se melile holim'a
boliba. Raseretsana a re oa se rema, selepe sa oela bolibeng.

Ha tla liphoofolo, tsa fumana a ntse a luba seretse. Tsa
fihla, tsa re : Raseretsana,. monnana eo, o ntse a pherehla boliba
a bo etsa'ng ? Eaba o re : Le re, monnana eo o ntse a pherehla
boliba, a bo etsa'ng? Boliba bo oetse selepe, selepe ke rema
molupo, molupo ho lutse leholi, leholi le jele ntsana, ntsana e
jele mali a serapele, serapele se lie 3 ngoan'a ka. Eaba lia feta.

Ha tla tse ling, tsa re : Monnana eo o ntse a pherehla-
pherehla boliba, a bo etsa'ng ? A re : Le re, monnana eo o ntse
a pherehla-pherehla boliba, a bo etsa'ng ? Boliba bo oetse
selepe, selepe ke rema molupo, molupo ho lutse leholi, leholi le
jele ntsana, ntsana e jele mali a serapele, serapele se lie
ngoan'a ka.

Ha boela ha tla tse ling, tsa re : Monnana eo o ntse a senya
metsi a rōna. Eaba o re: Le re ke senya metsi a lōna ; hleka
le ba ntšomang ha le bua joalo. Boliba bo oetse selepe, selepe
ke rema molupo, molupo ho lutse leholi, leholi le jele ntsana,
ntsana e jele mali a serapele, serapele se lie ngoan'a ka.

Joale tsa re : He ! lehe leo ke la mang ? Eaba o re : Lehe leo
ke le neoe ke Mosoansoanyane. Joale a tsoa bolibeng, a fihla,
a le bea tseleng. Ha tla liphoofolo, tsa re : Lehe leo ke la
mang ? A re : Ke la Mosoansoanyane, o itse : Mopshatlang a
pshatle, mofetang a fete. Tsa re : Qi, qi, qi, re pepile tsa rōna.

of my child ! It is the Se-Suto equivalent to the well known English story The
house that Jack built.

2 We do not know who Mosoansoanyane is, nor where that egg comes from.
We have here probably a fragment of another tale which has been appended to
Raseretsana's story.

3 Se lie for se jele, from ho'ja, to eat ; it is probably an old form.

28o FOLK-TALES

who passeth on let him pass on.1 They said : Qi ! qi ! qi ! we
are carrying our little ones on our backs.

Other animals arrived in great numbers. They said : Rasere-
tsana, whose egg is it ? He answered : It is the egg of Mosoa-
nsoanyane, who said : Who breaketh let him break ; who passeth
on let him pass on. They passed on.

Others arrived, among whom was a big one. They said:
Whose egg is it ? He answered : It is the egg of Mosoansoanyane,
who said : Who breaketh let him break ; who passeth on let
him pass on. They passed on. When they were already far
off, the big one came back, and said : Whose egg is it ? He
answered : It is the egg of Mosoansoanyane, who said : Who
breaketh let him break ; who passeth on let him pass on. It
went away again.

When it was far off, it came back a second time, and said :
Whose egg is it ? He answered : It is the egg of Mosoansoanya-
ne, who said : Who breaketh let him break ; who passeth on let
him pass on. Then the animal crushed the egg under its foot.
Mosoansoanyane came out of the egg, and entered into the nostrils
of the animal. It exclaimed : Pii ! what has come into my
nostrils ? and died. Then Mosoansoanyane came out of its
nostrils, and he and Raseretsana ate that animal.2

1 It means, let everybody beware of breaking this egg lest something dread-
ful befall him.

2 In a Zulu story (Callaway, op. cit. p. 154) a cannibal takes a little bird

Raseretsana 28 1

Ha tla tse ling tse ngata ; tsa fihla, tsa re : Raseretsana, lehe
lee ke la mang ? A re : Ke la Mosoansoanyane, o itse : Mopsha-
tlang a pshatle, mofetang a fete. Eaba lia feta.

Ha tla tse ling tse nang le e kholo ; tsa re: Lehe lee ke la
mang? Are: Ke la Mosoansoanyane, o itse: Mopshatlang a
pshatle, mofetang a fete. Tsa feta. Eitse ha li le mane, hole,
e kholo ea khutla, ea re : Lehe lee ke la mang ? A re : Ke la
Mosoansoanyane, o itse : Mopshatlang a pshatle, mofetang a
fete. Ea boela ea khutla.

Eitse ha e le hole, ea khutla la bobeli, ea re : Lehe lee ke la
mang ? A re : Ke la Mosoansoanyane, o itse : Mopshatlang a
pshatle, mofetang a fete. Eaba e le re ka lento pshaa. Mosoa-
nsoanyane a tsoa ka leheng, a kena ka nkong. Phoofolo e itse
ka re : Pii, ke kenoe ke'ng ka nkong ? ea ba ea e-shoa. Mosoa-
nsoanyane eaba oa tsoa; eaba ba e ja le Raseretsana.

killed by Umbandhlanyana, and eats it. Umbandhlanyana contracts himself, be-
comes short and thrusts himself into the cannibal's nostrils so that the cannibal
dies. Callaway's story, like ours, is only a fragment of an otherwise unknown
tale.

282 FOLK-TALES

XLII

MASILO AND MASILONYANE l

It is said that one day Masilo said to Masilonyane : Let us go
to my wife's. They journeyed there. On the way, Masilonyane
said to Masilo: Masilo, you know that at your father-in-
law's they eat zebras ; you know, too, that at our place we do
not eat them; I have heard somebody say that they have killed
many zebras.

So they journeyed, and arrived there; they found that the
zebras were already cooked, fat, good meat. Now Masilo — I
do not know where he had separated from Masilonyane — ate
zebra flesh. Afterwards he was seized with a strong desire to
pass water. He went out to pass water. Now the froth of the
urine swelled up ; he rose on his feet, the froth went on swelling,
so that it rose over his head, and covered him completely. It
was just like a white object.

Now a man who was passing exclaimed : What is this object ?
The men left the court, and ran out to see. When they went
out of the court, Masilonyane came and quickly ran into one of
the reed enclosures to get out his spears. He found a tree and
plucked off a stick. He came to the froth with his stick, he
struck it, he struck it very quickly. After he had struck it, a
zebra came running out from where the froth had been parted.

Now he said :
Tsee, tsee, tselane ! it is my brother Masilo,

He has been eating zebra flesh at his father-in-law's, whereas at our place it is

[not to be eaten;
He is like a child who refuses to listen to the advice of others.

The people heard him speaking. — What is it? They heard
Masilonyane's voice, and said: Alas! alas! Masilo has eaten
zebra flesh.

When he arrived home, the people saw that Masilo was
already a zebra. They put Masilo into the kraal. They lamented.

I This is again a taboo tale like Bulane and Tselane (No. XIV) and Seilatsatsi
(No. XXVII), but of a different kind. Masilo's people have to abstain from
zebra flesh, perhaps because it is the eponymous animal of their clan. In a Ba-
Suto song, which is probably the remnant of a long tale, given by A. Sekese (op.

Masilo and Masilonyanc 283

XLII

MASILO LE MASILONYANE

Ho thoe Masilo a re ho Masilonyane : Ha re ee habo mosali
oa ka. Ba etela. Joale ha ba le tseleng, Masilonyane a re ho
Masilo : Masilo, ua tseba hoba bohoeng ba hao ho jeoa lipitsi ;
joale he ua tseba ha eso ha li jeoe ; ke utloile maoba, ho thoe
ba bolaile lipitsi haholo.

Joale he ba tsmaile he, ba ba ba fihla ; ba fumana li apehiloe,
e le tse nonneng. Joale Masilo ( ha ke tsebe na ba arohane kae
le Masilonyane ) a ja pitsi. Joale hamorao a tšoaroa ke moroto.
Joale he a ea rota. Joale ha 'na ha kokomoha lefilo ; joale a
ema, joale la 'na la kokomoha, la mo koahela hloho, la mo
timetsa. Joale ea e-ba ntho e tšoeu feela.

Joale he motho o na a tsamaea, a re : Jo ! ntho eno ke'ng ?
Banna ba tloha khotla, ba titima ho bona. Masilonyane, ha ba
e-tsoa khotla, a tla, a mathela ka lapeng, a titimela ka teng, a
ea nka marumo a hae. Joale he a fumana sefate, a khoebotsa
thupa. Joale ha a fihla lefilong leo ka thupa ena, a le otla, a
le otla, a phakisetsa. Ha a le otlile, ka moo ho phunyehang ha
tsoa pitsi, e titima joale ka khomo.
Joale a re :

Tsee, tsee, tselane, ke Masilo oeso,
O jele pitsi bohoeng, ha eso e sa jeoe,
Ngoan'a mojoela a sa utloe.

Joale he batho ba utloa. — Ke'ng ? ke'ng ? Ba utloa lentsoe
la Masilonyane, ba re : Jo ! oee ! Masilo o jele pitsi.

Joale ha a fihla hae, batho ba bona e se e le pitsi Masilo. Ma-
silonyane a mo kenya ka sakeng. Ha lloa. A re : Ke mo joe-

cit. p. 222) a father tells his children not to eat zebra flesh in their parents-in-law's
village. For abstinence from certain kinds of food by different persons, cf. a
very instructive passage in DENNETT, The Folk-Lore of the Fjort, pp. XXVII, etc.

284 FOLK-TALES

Masilonyane said : I told him for certain when on our way, I
said : Oh Masilo do not eat zebra flesh ; at our place it is not to
be eaten. — What shall we do ?

They sought out a doctor. The doctor came, and said : Bring
me an ox. They brought an ox and put it in the kraal ; it was
slaughtered. The doctor was now tending that zebra, and
scarifying it with medicines. — Bring the ox quickly. They
brought it quickly. — Take away the flesh and bring it into the
reed enclosure. The doctor took the hide and covered the zebra
with it.1 Presently they heard : Echaa ! under the hide ; echaa !
a second time, and again a third time : echaa ! The ox hide
shook. The doctor ran to it and removed the hide ; they found
that the zebra had again become Masilo.

It is the end of the tale.

I Cf. the same ceremony in the tale of Seilatsatsi (No. XXVII).

Masilo and Masilonyane 285.

litse hie, re sa ea, ka re : Oho, Masilo, u se ke ua ja pitsi ; ha
eso ha e jeoe. — Ho ea etsoa joang ?

Joale he ha batloa ngaka. Ngaka ea e-ba teng, ea re : Ntli-
setseng khomo. Ba tlisa khomo, ba e kenya ka sakeng, ea
hlajoa. Ngaka joale e ntse e phekola pitsi ena, e bile e e phatsa
ka lihlare. — Phakisang khomo. Ba phakisa khomo. — Tho-
thang nama le e ise ka lapeng. Joale ngaka ea nka letlalo, ea
apesa pitsi ena ka letlalo. Joale ba utloa : Echaa ! ka letlalong ;
echaa ! hape la bobeli, le la boraro : echaa ! Letlalo la sisinyeha.
Ngaka ea titima, ea tlosa letlalo, ba fumana e se e le Masilo.

Ke tšomo ka mathetha.

286 FOLK-TALES

A List of the most important books dealing with South African and
Bantu folklore, or to which reference is made in the notes.

ARBOUSSET — Relation d'un voyage d' exploration an Nord Est de la Colonic du

Cap de Bonne Espèrance. Paris 1 842.
BEGUIN — Les Ma-Rotse. Lausanne 1903.

Bleek — A brief account of Bushman Folk-Lore. London and Cape Town 1875.
BRINCKER — Faebeln und Maehrchen der Ovaherero ( in Woerterbuch des Otji-

Herero. Leipzig 1886 ).
CALLAWAY — Nursery Tales, Tradition and Histories of the Zulus, 1st vol. ( all

that appeared ) Natal and London 1868.
CALLAWAY — The Religious System of the Amazulu. Natal and London 1870.
CARVALHO — Methodo pratico para foliar a lingua da Lunda. Lisboa 1890.
CASALIS — Etudes sur la langue sechuana. Paris 1841.
CASALIS — Les Bassoutos. Paris 1859.

CHATELAIN — Folk-Tales of Angola. Boston and New York 1894
CRISP — The Bechuana of South Africa. London 1896.
DENNETT — Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Fjort. London 1 898.
ELMSLIE — Folk-lore Tales of Central Africa ( in Folk-Lore, vol. III. London 1892 ).
Folk-Lore journal, Cape Town 1879-1880.

HAHN — TSUNI llGOAM, the Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi. London 1881.
HEWAT — Bantu Folk-Lore ( Medical and General ). Cape Town.
JACOTTET — Contes popidaires des Bassoutos. Paris 1895.
JACOTTET — Contes et legendes des Bassoutos ( in Revue des Traditions

Populaires 1888-1890. Paris).
JaCOTTET — Contes du pays de Gaza ( in Revue des Traditions Populaires, 1895).
JACOTTET — Etudes sur les langues du Haut Zambeze : II Partie, Textes Soubiya,

Paris 1899; HI Partie, Textes Louyi, Paris 1 90 1.
JUNOD — Les Chants et les Contes des Ba-Ronga. Lausanne 1897.
JUNOD — Les Ba-Ronga. Neuchatel 1898.

LLOYD, MISS C. L. — A short account of further Bushman material. London 1889.
Martin, Minnie — Basutoland, its Legends and Customs. London 1903.
MACDONLAD — Africana, or the Heart of Heathen Africa, 2 vols. London 1882.
Manuel de Language Luganda. Einsiedeln 1894.
Meinhof, Elli — Maerchen aus Kamerun erzaehlt von Njo Dibone. Strassburg

1889.
PERREGAUX — Chez Iqs Achanti (in Bulletin de la Societe neuchateloise de

Gèographie XVII, pp. 1-312). Neuchatel 1906.
SEKESE, A. — Mekhoa ea ba-Sotho, le Maele le Litsōmo. 1st ed. Morija 1893 ;

2nd ed. ( without the tales ) Morija 1907.
SCHOEN — Magana Hausa, or Native Literature in the Hausa language. London

1885.
SCOTT — A Cyclopaedic Dictionary of the Manganja Language. Edinburgh.
Sepelela sa Secoana. Bloemfontein 1890.
Smith — A Handbook of the Ila language (commonly called the Seshukulumbwe)

Oxford 1907.
STEERE — Swahili Tales as told by natives of Zanzibar. London 1869.
THEAL — Kaffir Folk-Lore. London 1882.

FOLK-TALES 287

TORREND — A Comparative Grammar of the South African Bantu Languages

London 1891.
TORREND — Xosa-Kafir Grammar. Grahamstown 1887.
TRILLES — Proverbes, Legendes et Conies Fang ( in Bulletin de la Sociète

neuchateloise de Geographic XVI, pp. 39-295 ), Neuchatel 1905.
WOODWARD — Stories in the Bondei Language (Bondei text only ). London.

Zeitschrift fiir afrikanische Sprachen, herausgegeben 1 von Dr C. G. Buettner.
3 vols. Leipzig 1887-1889.

Zeitschrift fiir afrikanische und oceanische Sprachen 2 herausgegeben von
A. Seidel. 6 vols. Leipzig 1895-1902.

1 It contains the following tales or articles relating to African folk-lore :
Christaller : Negersagen von der Goldkuste (I. 49-63). — Buettner : Four
Herero tales (I, 189-216, 295-307). — MEINHOF : One Duala tale (III, 241-246).

2 In its six volumes this Magazine contains the following African folk-tales
TORREND : Five tales in the Chwabo language of Quilimane with French trans-
lation (I, 243-249, II, 46-50; 245-248). — BOECKING : Legends of the Wa-
Pokomo (II, 33-39). — SEIDEL : One folk-tale of the Wa-Shambala (II, 145-
149). — WERNER, A. : Ten Ma-Nganja tales (II, 217-219 ; III, 353-357 ; IV,
136-145). — OviR, E. : Two tales of the Wa-Madshame (III, 65-77). — PRIETZE :
Three parables and histories of the Ewe in Togo (III, 17-43). — JUNOD : One
Ronga tale (III, 225-249).— CAPUS: Ten tales of the Ba-Sumbwa (III, 358-381).
— RAUM: Three Masai tales in Ki-Madshame (IV, 124-132). — ScHULER: One
tales of the Ba-Koko in Cameroons (III, 275-276). — KOLLMAN : One tale of the
Ba-Ganda (III, 382-384). — Walther : One tale in the Mamba dialect of Ki-
limandjaro (IV, 337-338). — KANNENBURG : Some legends of German East
African, in German only (V, 161-162). — HAERTTER : Fifteen tales of the Evhe
in Togo (VI, 105-137 ; 216-221 ; 239-247). These tales are given in the native
text with a German or French translation.

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